《悟真直指》Vol. 2
About this page. The original text of 《悟真直指》 Vol. 2 (Zangwai Daoshu 藏外道書, 3 volumes) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Godners/DaoZang edition. An English interpretation of the 58 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
Reading modes explained
- Horizontal: ordinary left-to-right reading; the interpretation can be shown.
- Scroll: vertical text running right to left; the wheel scrolls sideways (no interpretation in this mode).
- Wheel: columns of vertical text turn around a drum; use the wheel, drag or arrow keys, or auto-play.
- Pages: about 200 characters per page; use the buttons, swipe or arrow keys.
Source textInterpretation
The numinous awareness that suddenly appears in the darkness is, at the moment it appears, the “living Zi hour” within my body—the crucial moment when Yang Qi stirs in Neidan cultivation. The term “cooking and roaring” describes this fleeting, indistinct scene. “The Golden-Water formula” refers to the Dao-heart’s true awareness: a single-minded, pure nature and feeling that contains the two kinds of Qi, Metal and Water. Kunlun is the ancestral source of the western mountain ranges and the place where true gold is refined. Here, Kunlun is used as a metaphor for the source from which true gold arises, meaning that the Dao-heart’s true knowing appears in the deepest darkness.
When the Dao-heart’s true knowing emerges in utter darkness, flickering like lightning—bright one moment, dim the next, difficult to grasp, and liable to appear and vanish—it must be met at once with “the empty, numinous Fire of Li,” a symbol of the heart-mind’s clear, open, and spiritually aware perception. In this way, true awareness and numinous knowing communicate with one another; nature and feeling draw close, and Yin-Yang unite. From this, the precelestial numinous medicine is produced. It is then refined with natural true Fire, removing postcelestial turbid Qi until the impurities are spent and the true gold is pure. The Golden Elixir is then complete. Taking the Golden Elixir transforms one from the old self, revealing a pure Dharma-body—a state of body and mind free of defilement. At that point, fragrance fills the human world; surely this means more than merely giving off a fragrance throughout one’s body.
On Wu and Ji:
Fourteen
Without Wu and Ji earth, Li and Kan cannot form the Golden Elixir, even though they contain the Four Images. Only because each holds true earth within itself can the Golden Elixir circulate back and forth.
Kan belongs to Water and corresponds in the human body to original Jing; when it stirs, it manifests as wisdom. Gold is concealed within Water and corresponds in the human body to true feeling; when it stirs, it manifests as righteousness. Li belongs to Fire. If there is no earth of Wu and Ji between Li and Kan, then even though they contain the Four Images, they cannot be refined into the Golden Elixir. It is precisely because both contain true earth that the Golden Elixir can return.
Kan (symbolizing water) corresponds in the human body to Original Jing (essence); when Original Jing stirs, it manifests as wisdom. Gold is hidden within water; in the human body, this corresponds to True Feeling, which manifests as righteousness when stirred. Li (symbolizing fire) corresponds in the human body to Original Shen (spirit); when Original Shen stirs, it manifests as propriety. Fire arises from wood; in the human body, this corresponds to Original Nature, which manifests as benevolence when stirred.
The Dao Heart—the innermost heart aligned with the Dao—embodies the image of Kan, while the human heart, with its everyday thoughts, embodies the image of Li. Both the Dao Heart and the human heart possess the four attributes of Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire. Yet these attributes are not the same in each. For them to engender one another and return to a single Qi, everything depends on the work of Wu and Ji: Wu is Yang Earth, corresponding to Original Qi, and when it stirs, it manifests as trust; Ji is Yin Earth, corresponding to intention, and when it stirs, it manifests as desire. Wu is contained within Kan and manifests as trust in the Dao Heart; Ji is contained within Li and manifests as intention in the human heart.
To set the heart right, one must first make one’s intentions sincere. When intention is sincere, Ji Earth settles, and the human heart becomes calm. To practice the Dao, one must first establish firm trust. When trust is steadfast, Wu Earth becomes manifest, and the Dao Heart shines clearly. If the Dao Heart lacks trust and the human heart lacks sincerity, then even if benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are present, they cannot harmonize with one another. One’s inner nature and spirit will also pull apart. How, then, could they congeal into a divine elixir of utmost numinosity and holiness?
Therefore, those who cultivate the Dao should take sincere intention and steadfast trust as their foundation. When intention is sincere and trust firm, the Dao Heart becomes clear and the human heart is set right. The two join in harmony, Yin and Yang respond to one another, and precelestial Qi comes forth from the void, gathering into a single millet pearl—a metaphor for the tiny, concentrated Neidan. What has dispersed gathers again; what has departed returns. Thus it is said: “Only because both contain True Earth can the Golden Elixir return.” The work of Wu and Ji is indeed of great importance.
“Inverting Kan and Li”:
The sun properly belongs to the position of Li, yet when turned upside down it becomes female; Kan is paired with the lunar palace, yet is transformed into male. Unless you understand the principle of inverting Kan and Li, do not pontificate on the matter from partial knowledge.
Spiritual awareness (postnatal consciousness and quick-wittedness) belongs to Yang, yet it often appears perceptive on the outside while remaining dim within, making it easy for stray thoughts from outside to intrude. It is like the Sun in the position of Li (the Li trigram of the Bagua, symbolizing fire and the Sun): Yang on the outside and Yin within, so it is paradoxically likened to a woman. True knowing (innate awareness) belongs to Yin. It seems dark on the surface but is bright within, and contains pure Qi (vital energy). It is like the Kan trigram paired with the Moon Palace (traditionally, a toad in the Moon symbolizes the Moon): Yin on the outside and Yang within, so it is paradoxically likened to a man. The postnatal human mind gives rise to deluded thoughts through spiritual awareness, while the Dao mind (the innately pure and genuine mind) is buried. This is also like a woman managing the household while the man withdraws behind her.
The Way of cultivating the Elixir is to use the Dao mind’s true knowing to restrain the human mind’s spiritual awareness, while also having that awareness yield to true knowing. Men are firm and women yielding; when the man takes charge and the woman obeys, no great undertaking will fail. If you do not understand this reversal of Yin-Yang positions, you will not recognize the Dao mind’s true knowing or distinguish it from the human mind’s spiritual awareness. Your thoughts will then become confused, gathering and scattering without order, and you will mistake the false for the true. Do not speak grandly from narrow understanding, lest you deceive yourself and others.
Sixteen
Draw forth the solid Yang Qi hidden within the Kan trigram, and transform the Yin Qi in the belly of the Li Palace;
In this way, forge the firm and vigorous body of the Qian trigram. Whether it lies hidden or appears is entirely governed by the mind.
All of this is determined by the mind—the activity of the original mind.
The solid within the Kan position, which symbolizes Yang concealed within Yin, is the true knowing of the Dao mind, the mind aligned with one’s nature. The emptiness within the Li palace, which symbolizes Yin contained within Yang, is the numinous knowing of the human mind, the mind shaped by acquired influences. Draw out the true knowing concealed within Kan—that is, the Dao mind—and use it to illuminate the numinous knowing within the Li palace—that is, the human mind. In an instant, Yin Qi recedes and Yang Qi is restored. The original state of Qianyuan, pure Yang and sound in nature, appears once more, and innate knowing and ability return to their proper nature. When the mind is still, it rests in silent quiescence; when circumstances call forth a response, it meets them with understanding. Once it has responded with understanding, it returns to silent quiescence.
Thus, from this point on, one can transform into a body of Qian’s strength and vitality. The mind governs both what is latent and what is manifest in body and mind. The “body” referred to here is not the illusory physical form, but the Dharma Body—the true body in which one’s nature is embodied. The Dharma Body is one’s nature. At birth, the point of true numinous nature is complete and luminous, free of obscurity: strong, centered, upright, pure, and without admixture. It is like the Qian trigram, composed of three Yang lines, a symbol of pure Yang without Yin. Later, upon entering the acquired realm, innate knowing becomes obscured and the Qi of numinous clarity loses its purity. It is as though the center of the Qian trigram becomes empty and turns into the Li trigram, while the center of the Kun trigram becomes solid and turns into the Kan trigram. The empty center signifies that true Yang Qi has departed; the solid center signifies that true Yang Qi has become concealed within Kan.
“To take from Kan and fill Li” means to recover the true Yang concealed within Kan and fill the emptiness in Li. In this way, one returns to original innocence and restores the true numinous nature one had at the beginning, as though the Li trigram had once again become the Qian trigram. Once true numinousness is restored, the mind can take the lead, responding to circumstances while remaining clear and still. One’s actions and retreats are then appropriate, and the mind can govern both what is latent and what is manifest.
Later generations, not understanding this principle, explained “taking from Kan and filling Li” as taking Qi from the kidneys and sending it to the heart. Others said that kidney Qi rises up the back, descends down the front, and then settles in the Crimson Palace, a term in Daoist internal alchemy for the site of cultivation below the heart. Alas, there is another subtlety here: the heart and kidneys are not originally Kan and Li. To identify Kan and Li directly with the heart and kidneys is a very muddled interpretation.
Next, we will discuss the Five Phases.
The dragon in Zhen (one of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizing the east and Wood) refers to Wood Mercury; the tiger in Dui (one of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizing the west and Metal) refers to Metal Lead. Li represents Fire, and Kan represents Water. Dragon Mercury arises from the realm of Li Fire, as Wood arises from Fire; Tiger Lead forms in the realm of Kan Water, as Metal arises from Water. Here the Five Phases’ usual cycle of generation is reversed: Wood instead arises from Fire, and Metal from Water. This is why it is said that “the child gives birth to the mother.” The ancient classic’s lines, “The Five Phases do not proceed in their usual order; the dragon emerges from within Fire. The Five Phases move in reverse; the tiger is born toward Water,” explain this principle.
A person’s Qi and temperament tend to fluctuate, like the light and restless nature of Wood Mercury. If the Fire of original Shen (the activity of the true spirit) refines away impurities, one’s temperament is transformed, true nature emerges, and an enduring, unmoving nature is established. A person’s delusive feelings run deep, like the heavy, sluggish nature of Metal Lead. If the Water of undivided essence (the pure, subtle inner force) washes away its dust and grime, delusive feelings recede, true feeling settles, and desires diminish along with them. When temperament is transformed, the Fire of nature subsides; when the discriminating mind of acquired Shen recedes, original Shen remains ever-present. When desire is eliminated, lustful thoughts cease; when turbid Jing is transformed, original Jing is no longer depleted.
Once true nature has emerged, true feeling has settled, original Shen has arisen, and original Jing is secured, nature, feeling, and spirit return to a single Qi. Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom likewise return to “trustworthiness.” This is called having all Five Phases complete. When the Five Phases are complete and blend as one in the center, this is called “the Five Phases entering the center.” With the Five Phases gathered in the center, Yin and Yang harmonize without excess or deficiency, and the Golden Elixir (the refined state attained through Neidan cultivation) can coalesce. If some aspects are lacking while others are excessive, and one seeks additional ingredients elsewhere, the Golden Elixir is difficult to form.
The poem particularly emphasizes that “all Five Phases must enter the center.” If they do not return to the center, they disperse, and the Golden Elixir cannot coalesce. When they return to the center, they unite as one Qi, and the Golden Elixir forms naturally. Therefore, practitioners should first understand the principle of the Five Phases.
When the two lunar phases—the waxing and waning half-moons, also used here to signify Yin and Yang Qi—come together, the moon has just risen above the horizon, showing half its disk. Within the body, one then feels a response like “the dragon’s cry and the tiger’s roar.” This is the right moment to devote oneself to practice and bring the “two eights” of Qi into accord. According to the text, the Neidan (internal alchemy) can be refined in a single double-hour.
Here, the Golden Elixir is explained as the union of two forces, “the dragon’s nature” and “the tiger’s disposition.” First, one takes eight taels of “Metal” from the waxing phase as the Elixir Mother, then half a jin of “Wood” from the waning phase, and uses cultivation methods to unite them. “Metal” and “Wood” are symbolic terms in Neidan practice, referring to the coordination of forces such as Yin and Yang, and Jing and Qi. The “two eights” refers to the corresponding proportions or the timing and intensity of the firing process.
The Golden Elixir—the state of completion described in Neidan cultivation—is formed when the nature of the dragon and the passion of the tiger, two currents of Qi, meet and unite. First, take eight ounces of metal from the “upper bowstring” as the mother of the Elixir. Then take half a catty of wood from the “lower bowstring” to condense the sacred embryo, the fruit nurtured through Neidan cultivation.
What are the “two bowstrings”? The moon first shows a sliver of sunlight on the third day of the month. By the eighth day, the Yang within Yin has grown to half its fullness, and the boundary between the bright and dark halves of the moon lies straight, like a bowstring. Because the sunlight is above, this is called the “upper bowstring.” The moon is full on the fifteenth day. From the sixteenth, Yin begins to arise, and by the eighteenth its form is visible. By the twenty-third day, the Yin within Yang has grown to half its fullness, and the boundary between light and dark again lies straight, like a bowstring. Because the sunlight is below, this is called the “lower bowstring.”
The moon’s sunlight appears in the west. The tiger belongs to metal, and metal corresponds to the west, so the moon’s phase on the eighth day is called the “tiger’s bowstring Qi.” The moon’s Yin body appears in the east. The dragon belongs to water, and wood corresponds to the east, so the moon’s phase on the twenty-third day is called the “dragon’s bowstring Qi.”
The passion of “true knowing” is firm and strong, symbolized by the tiger, like the moon’s sunlight. The nature of “numinous knowing” is yielding and compliant, symbolized by the dragon, like the moon’s Yin body. As the firm passion of true knowing gradually moves into the central and balanced position, it resembles the sunlight that appears at the moon’s upper bowstring: this is “eight ounces of metal.” As the yielding nature of numinous knowing gradually withdraws into the central and balanced position, it resembles the moon’s Yin body at the lower bowstring: this is “eight ounces of wood.”
When the moon first shows half its bright disk above the horizon, it precisely symbolizes the moment when the firm passion of true knowing moves into the central and balanced position. When true knowing reaches this position, there is firmness within yielding; numinous knowing, held in check by true knowing, no longer scatters and wanders. When Yang governs Yin and Yin responds to Yang, the dragon’s cry and the tiger’s roar answer one another, and their Qi currents unite. This is the right moment to practice: use Yang Qi to bring Yin Qi into balance, so that the yielding nature of numinous knowing also returns to the central and balanced position.
When numinous knowing reaches this position, there is yielding within firmness. Once both true knowing and numinous knowing have returned to the central and balanced position, and the two bowstring Qi currents have reached the required measure, Yin and Yang are balanced and firmness and yielding are united. The Elixir can then be formed within one double-hour. But if the two bowstring Qi currents are not yet equal—if Yang exceeds Yin or Yin exceeds Yang—the Elixir cannot form. Only when Yin and Yang are balanced, without leaning to either side, and the state of the “center” is attained, can the Elixir be formed within one double-hour.
How easy is it to form the Elixir within one double-hour? Without decades of focused, sustained hardship in practice, it is difficult to reach this state at once.
“Huayue” lies in the west, and “Fusang” in the east. The tiger symbolizes the disposition of Metal, while the dragon symbolizes the nature of Wood. At the beginning of life, nature and disposition are originally in harmony. After entering the postnatal state, deluded thoughts and ingrained habits cloud the true nature and obscure the true disposition. Nature and disposition then separate, as though the dragon were in the east and the tiger in the west. The tiger is called “male,” symbolizing the strength and vigor of the Metal disposition; the dragon is called “female,” symbolizing the gentleness and yielding of the Wood nature.
Although deluded thoughts and ingrained habits in the postnatal state have driven the true disposition and true nature apart, they still have an inner tendency to meet again. The mountain-dwelling male tiger roars, while the female dragon at the bottom of the sea murmurs: this describes Yin and Yang as separated from each other yet secretly connected. Something is still needed to bring them truly together.
“Yellow Matron,” also called true Earth or true intent, is the inner conviction that is genuine. When true faith emerges, the mind and intent become sincere and upright, deluded thoughts recede, and the true nature returns. The disposition then returns to the nature, and the two unite in an instant, like a matchmaker carrying messages between two families so they can marry and become of one mind.
The red dragon and black tiger occupy the eastern and western directions, symbolizing Yin and Yang, and nature and disposition, in separate places. The Four Images—the four symbolic forces that work together in cultivation—meet and harmonize within Wu and Ji, the directions and attributes of Earth. From then on, one can work with the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang, and their cycles of coming and going, represented by “Fu” and “Gou.” How could the cultivation of the Golden Elixir fail?
Wood can generate Fire, and Fire and Wood belong to the same category, so they are called the “Red Dragon.” Metal can generate Water, and Metal and Water belong to the same category, so they are called the “Black Tiger.” Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire are the “Four Images”; Wu and Ji belong to Earth. Earth harmonizes the Four Images, and the Four Images together with Earth make up the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). When the Five Phases move in their ordinary course, it is as though the entire Dharma Realm had become a pit of fire. When they move in reverse, they can transform the earth into the Seven Treasures. The key lies in how the practitioner puts them to use.
When the emotion of true knowing in the Dao-heart—the original mind in accord with the Dao—stirs, this is called “Fu” (Return). At this time, one should use the method of advancing Yang Fire to refine the elixir. When the nature of numinous awareness in the human heart grows still, this is called “Gou” (Encounter). At this time, one should use the method of withdrawing Yin Talisman to nourish and warm it. In other words, use Yang when Yang is called for, and Yin when Yin is called for. Yang is firm and vigorous; Yin is yielding and compliant. Yang employs nine, Yin employs six: each must accord with its proper timing. When true knowing and numinous awareness unite and gather in the center, the Five Phases converge, and the Golden Elixir forms naturally.
Dragon and Tiger
The White Tiger of the Western Mountain charges fiercely; the Azure Dragon of the Eastern Sea is equally unstoppable.
Seize them with both hands and make them clash violently; in the end, refine them together into a single mass of purple-gold frost—the crystalline elixir.
“True knowing” refers to the innate knowing one possesses from the beginning, while “spiritual knowing” refers to one’s innate spiritual nature. Although both belong to the precelestial state, once they fall into the postcelestial state, they become entangled with emotions and desires, and truth becomes mixed with falsehood. Over time, body and mind grow estranged from each other and cannot be brought into balance all at once. Hence the saying: “The white tiger of the western mountain runs rampant; the blue dragon of the eastern sea cannot be subdued.”
Yet Golden Elixir cultivation has a method of “using the false to cultivate the true, and using the true to transform the false.” It follows the habits already present in body and mind, guiding them gradually, then applies steady effort over time. Even if they cannot be brought into harmony at first, eventually they will be; even if they cannot be reconciled, eventually they will be. With time, deluded emotions naturally fade and true emotion naturally appears; temperamental impulses gradually dissolve and true nature is revealed. The false disappears, while the real endures. Emotion free of attachment is called true emotion; nature unbound by habit is called true nature. True emotion and true nature merge as one. Thoughts settle into stillness while the spirit remains alert and alive, no longer falling into discriminating perception. In accord with the natural Dao, they finally transform into a mass of “purple-gold frost.”
Gold symbolizes firmness and imperishability. Gold is refined in a great furnace of fire until it turns purple, signifying that it has been refined to complete purity. When purple gold then transforms into frost, its form and substance dissolve, merging wholly into a single Qi and transcending the distinctions of Yin-Yang.
Three Poems on Refining the Self
Twenty-Two
First, observe the celestial signs and understand the “Five Thieves”—the five factors that can disturb body and mind. Next, examine yourself, as though governing the land and bringing the people to peace. Only after body and mind are settled and the inner being is full can one speak of engaging in battle; only through this battle can one behold the state of the sage.
“Observing Heaven” means observing one’s own innate nature. “Understanding the Five Thieves” means understanding how the Five Phases—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—overcome one another. “Examining the Earth” means examining one’s own heart-mind. “Settling the people” means bringing Jing (essence), Shen (spirit), Hun (ethereal soul), Po (corporeal soul), and intention to rest, each in its proper place. In cultivating the alchemical Dao, the most important thing is refining oneself; the key to this is first to contemplate one’s innate nature. When innate nature is not obscured, the Five Thieves cannot easily deceive you. Next, one must examine the heart-mind. When it is pure and clear, the five elements of body and mind can be brought to rest. Once they are settled, Jing and Qi (vital energy) can be kept firm, spirit is complete, the Hun is at peace, and the Po is calm. When intention is sincere, it is like a prosperous state. Then one can do battle with the Five Thieves and drive back the various Yin energies.
When Yin energy transforms into Yang energy, and the moment of killing and destruction turns into a moment of growth and renewal, the state of the sage can appear. Here, “sage” refers to the innate capacity for knowing and doing what is good: one’s original nature, also called the “sacred embryo,” the pure and luminous inner foundation of cultivation. Once the Five Thieves are subdued, they transform into the “Five Primordials” and manifest as the “Five Virtues.” At rest, they remain unmoving; when stirred, they respond and reach through. Without deliberate discrimination or thought, they accord with the laws of Heaven. Is this not the state of the sacred embryo?
The word “battle” in the poem carries deep meaning. The Five Thieves lie hidden within the heart-mind and show themselves through the activity of the eyes and other senses. Without a great power of cultivation sufficient to contend with Heaven, they cannot be subdued. “Battle” means rousing oneself to cultivate: activating the mechanisms of practice, advancing with courage and determination, persevering, and never giving up halfway. The immortals of old said, “As long as a thread of Yang energy remains within the body, a person will not die; as long as a thread of Yin energy remains unrefined, one cannot become an immortal.” Refining oneself must reach a state in which not the slightest Yin energy remains and the Five Phases have merged into one, like ore stripped of all impurities until pure gold is revealed. Only then is the work complete.
Cultivating the self—refining the mind and nature, and removing distracting thoughts and ingrained habits—cannot be rushed. It must follow human inclinations and proceed step by step. The aperture of one’s true numinous nature, where inner awareness and original nature reside, has long been closed, and habits have taken deep root. The Five Thieves—the desires and sensory temptations that disturb the mind—did not cause harm overnight, so they are especially difficult to dispel.
“Using the generals, one must divide the left and right armies; let the other be the host and oneself the guest.” This means that in practice one must know how to arrange what takes precedence: for a time, go along with the other, letting it take the host’s place while taking the guest’s. It is like giving something first in order to obtain it. “I urge you, when facing the battle, do not underestimate the enemy, lest you lose our family’s priceless treasure” is a warning not to take the work lightly, lest one lose one’s precious true nature. Within, remain alert to danger and respond with care; outwardly, practice diligently and keep refining yourself. In this way, false habits can be removed, true nature preserved, and the cultivation of the Great Dao brought within reach.
Twenty-Four
Fire arises from wood, with its sharp force hidden within. If you do not understand how to investigate it, do not force an attack. Calamity often begins this way and eventually harms you yourself. You must therefore find a way to subdue it and seek the “Metal Lord,” a term in the alchemical tradition that often refers to the nature of metal or to a related element in alchemical work.
Once a person falls into the acquired state, with the knowing spirit—the acquired consciousness and deliberative thought—in charge, the Five Phases energies already present within the body, the troubles and habitual tendencies accumulated over many lifetimes, and the various impure habits picked up in the present will all emerge together. Without powerful cultivation and skillful methods, how can they be overcome completely?
If one does not first investigate the underlying truths, but acts rashly and tries to suppress the mind with the mind, attacking too forcefully, the Sovereign Fire and Ministerial Fire—two concepts describing the body’s inner fires—may sometimes flare up at the same time. This will not subdue the harmful enemies within the mind; instead, one may be overcome by them. Far from helping, it can cause harm. It is like wood giving rise to fire: once the flames catch, they turn back and consume the wood, damaging its own vitality.
The Cantong qi says: “The sun’s flowing pearl is always seeking to leave the person; suddenly it obtains the golden flower, and they then support one another.” The “golden flower” here is the Dao mind, the original mind in accord with innate nature. The Dao mind is not the heart of ordinary thought and deliberation. It arises from innate true nature and issues from the true life within; it has genuine awareness and an upright, resolute force, and is not easily obscured by the myriad things. When the Dao mind’s radiance appears, all that is perverse and delusive retreats. Decisive and upright, it is sharp as metal. For this reason, the Dao mind is also called the “Metal Lord.”
To investigate the underlying truths is to understand how “Metal” overcomes “Wood.” In cultivating the Great Elixir, the Metal Lord must be sovereign. If one abandons the Metal Lord and tries to refine oneself—that is, to cultivate one’s mind and nature—one will only invite trouble. Thus Zhang Sanfeng said, “When refining oneself, one must use true lead.” True lead and the Metal Lord are both names for the Dao mind.
On the Metal Lord:
The Metal Lord was originally the son of the family to the east, but was sent to the western neighbor’s home to be born and raised. Recognize him, call him back home, and bring him up; then have him marry the daughter of the household.
The Metal Lord, which symbolizes emotion and upright, resolute energy, is the true knowledge of the Dao-heart mentioned earlier. True knowledge is also true feeling. In their original state, nature and feeling are linked and form a single whole: in terms of their underlying substance, they are called “nature”; in terms of their function, they are called “feeling.” Nature is feeling, and feeling is nature. They have different names, but are not two separate things.
Once one enters life as it unfolds after birth, nature and feeling change. True feeling becomes obscured, and deluded feeling arises in its place. Upright, resolute energy is clouded by acquired habits from outside, as though it had left its own home. It is like someone from the eastern household staying with a neighbor to the west: though they have not left forever, even when they meet, they may fail to recognize one another.
Those who aspire to cultivation must investigate the principles of things and understand them thoroughly, recognizing the true knowledge of the Dao-heart. At a single call, it will answer and return, like an echo in an empty valley, without any effort. Then, in a quiet place, they must carefully nurture and constantly safeguard it, bringing it together with the Crimson Maiden, which symbolizes the nature of numinous awareness. In this way, Yin and Yang energy can return to unity and form an intimate bond, allowing it to become their own once more.
Although the Crimson Maiden is called “maiden,” the nature she represents belongs to Yang. Because nature is gentle, it takes Wood as its symbol and is therefore called the Crimson Maiden. Feeling belongs to Yin, yet is called a “man.” Because feeling is firm and vigorous, it takes Metal as its symbol and is therefore called the Metal Lord. The Metal Lord has long been away from home; once he returns and meets the Crimson Maiden, their closeness allows them to form the Elixir. As the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) says: “When Metal returns to its original nature, it may be called the Returning Elixir.” The union of Metal and Wood, of feeling and nature, is the Returning Elixir; there is no other Returning Elixir.
The “Maiden” (Chanu, symbolizing the luminous nature of awareness) has its own natural rhythm of practice: the initial stage should be brief, and the subsequent nurturing should be long. Once she has returned, let her enter the “Abode of the Matchmaker” (Huangpo She, symbolizing a balanced, centered, and settled state of mind), then join with the “Golden Duke” (Jingong, symbolizing true feeling and true intention) as his companion, remaining together for the long term.
The Maiden is the nature of spiritual awareness described in the preceding poem. Once it enters acquired consciousness, it becomes mixed with the “cognitive spirit” (shishen, the mind that discriminates and deliberates). Delusion mingles with its clarity, and it is easily stirred by whatever arises, drifting and wavering like a flame. This is what is meant by thoughts coming and going without constancy, their traces difficult to grasp.
In cultivating the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the practice of internal alchemy), the first step is to set this spiritual awareness moving in the right direction: preserve its clarity without letting thoughts pull it along, and allow it to return to its true nature. “The forward movement must be brief” means using one’s nature to seek true feeling. This process brings nature and feeling into accord relatively quickly, which is why it is called “brief.” “The latter stage must be long” means using spiritual awareness to nurture true feeling. This resembles the work of nurturing the Elixir over ten months, which is why it is called “long.” Let the brief stage be brief and the long stage be long: this is “its own proper measure.” Only by practicing according to this rhythm can the Golden Elixir hope to be perfected.
Practice also requires first gathering in the mind’s cleverness and acute discernment, then turning the light back inward (withdrawing the mind and spirit from external things and observing within), so that spiritual awareness rests in the central, proper position. This is what “return, then enter the Abode of the Matchmaker” means. The Abode of the Matchmaker refers to a balanced, unbiased state of mind. When spiritual awareness settles, the mind can become upright and intention sincere. Sincere intention makes one’s convictions genuine, no longer wandering outward. In this way, nature seeks true feeling, true feeling returns to nature, and the two unite and condense into a single Qi. This is what “marry the Golden Duke as an old husband” means.
“An old husband” is an unusual expression that emphasizes lasting companionship. At the beginning of practice, spiritual awareness draws true feeling to it. Once true feeling has returned, spiritual awareness no longer wavers, and it too returns to its true nature. Thereafter, spiritual awareness must continue to restrain and protect true feeling, nurturing it in a state of pure Yang without Yin. This is like a married couple living together and remaining companions into old age, without separating along the way. That is precisely the meaning of “the latter stage must be long.” Practitioners should seek a deep understanding of the principles governing the timing and degree of practice.
Even if one can identify cinnabar and black lead, without understanding how to manage the firing times, that knowledge is useless. The making of the elixir depends entirely on the work of cultivation; even the slightest error prevents the elixir from forming.
The “Returning Elixir” (a term for cultivating the internal elixir) does not use cinnabar and black lead as tangible minerals found in the world. These names refer instead to the formless, numinous awareness of the human mind and the true knowing of the Dao mind. The human mind’s numinous awareness is bright on the outside and dark within. Its bright aspect belongs to Fire, whose color is red, so it is symbolized by cinnabar. The Dao mind’s true knowing is dark on the outside and bright within. Its hidden aspect belongs to Water, whose color is black, so it is symbolized by black lead. Only after recognizing these two inner “medicines” can one speak of gathering and refining them.
Yet gathering the medicines is not enough; one must also understand how to refine them. Knowing the medicines without knowing the method is no different from not knowing the medicines at all. The “firing times” spoken of here refer to the skill and sequence of cultivation: one must discern the right moment to gather the medicine and observe the proper measure in refining it. The scripture lists different firing times, including gentle cooking, vigorous refining, beginning the work, pausing, advancing Yang, withdrawing Yin, the Returning Elixir, the Great Elixir, increase and decrease, and warming and nurturing. These terms show that cultivation involves many stages and methods of adjustment. One must fully understand their beginnings and endings to succeed. Even a slight deviation can lead far astray and make it difficult for the elixir to form.
The Qilun Jingge explains truths that are real and subtle, yet it does not state plainly in writing how to manage the firing process—the timing, stages, and intensity of cultivation. To understand the deeper mysteries of its oral instructions, one must discuss them carefully with an accomplished teacher. In cultivation, a hair’s breadth of error can lead to a result a thousand miles away, making success in Elixir practice difficult.
In the Qilun Jingge, the ancient perfected immortals explain in great detail the substances used in self-cultivation and the firing process, with precision and clarity. Their words are not false. Even so, written language cannot fully express the principles. The scripture does address the firing process, but its teachings are scattered rather than organized: at times it discusses nature, at times life, the substances, or the fire; sometimes the firing process for cultivating life, sometimes for cultivating nature, and sometimes external or internal firing. Without an accomplished teacher to organize the main points and identify what matters, these teachings are difficult to understand. This is why people say the firing process is not stated plainly in writing and must be discussed carefully with a teacher.
These words urge readers both to study the Qilun Jingge and to seek an accomplished teacher’s confirmation. One should neither neglect the scripture and rely only on a teacher, nor assume that reading the scripture alone is enough to grasp its meaning without seeking guidance. The scripture helps distinguish the true from the false and broadens one’s understanding. Seeking an accomplished teacher allows one to verify the principles one has examined and understood. Personal inquiry and a teacher’s confirmation are both essential.
We will now begin discussing the firing process for gathering the substances.
Viewing the moon on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, when the moon is fullest and brightest, marks a time when “Golden Essence” (a Neidan term for the essence and Qi gathered through cultivation) is flourishing. When “the first stirrings of Yang” arise—the Yang energy has just begun to emerge and an opportunity for cultivation is appearing—one should promptly set the fire in motion, guiding intention and Qi according to the stages of Neidan practice. Do not delay: once this moment has passed, it is difficult to recover.
At Mid-Autumn, the moon is at its roundest and brightest. The poem uses it as an image of flourishing Golden Essence and of human nature in its luminous completeness. “When Yang has just stirred” refers to a first glimmer of true awareness emerging in the Dao-heart, before it has fully unfolded, like Yang energy newly arising between Heaven and Earth, with its first signs just appearing. This is the moment to begin gathering and refining, seizing the nascent opportunity and drawing it into the “Furnace of Creation” (a metaphor for Neidan cultivation), where it is gradually gathered and refined until it grows from faint to abundant. Continue until the Yang energy is pure and complete, shining brightly like the full moon at Mid-Autumn. “Do not delay” emphasizes the urgency of the moment: the light of true knowing in the Dao-heart is hard to attain and easily dissipated, and even a slight hesitation may cause it to be lost.
On “withdrawing and adding according to the fire phases”:
When Yang has just begun to stir, it is the time to refine the elixir. A gentle glow of Qi in the “Lead Cauldron” (a Neidan term for the vessel in which essence and Qi are refined) shines upon the curtains. The Qi dynamic is easy to grasp when it first arises, but afterward one must apply the methods of withdrawing and adding with care, to avoid danger.
This passage continues the meaning of the previous poem. When the first Yang stirs—that is, when Yang Qi (vital energy) begins to emerge in internal alchemy practice—it must be gathered into the cauldron, the crucial place within the body where cultivation takes place, so that the mind remains calm and the breath steady. When the heart-mind is empty and still, an inner brightness arises and its radiance gathers inward, like a light suddenly appearing in the darkness and illuminating the curtains. Master Cui says, “Receiving Qi is an auspicious sign, but take care lest it turn into misfortune.” It is not difficult for Yang to be reborn; the difficulty lies in keeping it pure and whole. So when Yang Qi first stirs, it must be carefully guarded. The work of drawing out and adding in must be carried out so that cultivation can bear fruit.
“Drawing out” means removing what is excessive from the mind’s perceptive awareness; “adding in” means making up what is lacking in the Dao-mind’s true knowing. Continue drawing out and adding in until neither is needed: the human mind no longer stirs in delusion, the Dao-mind remains present, true knowing and perceptive awareness come together, and the inner and outer are clear. Only then can one avoid calamities like wind and thunder in the middle of the night. When the Dao-mind has just been reborn, Yang Qi is weak while Yin Qi is at its height. If drawing out and adding in do not continue, even a moment’s slackness may cause the newly gained Yang Qi to be lost. This is why the work of drawing out and adding in is so important: it is itself the work of guarding against danger. There is no separate method of guarding against danger apart from it. The two are one and the same, and practitioners should bear this in mind.
Here the text discusses the timing and methods for warming and nurturing the fire—the regulation and safeguarding of the Golden Elixir in cultivation:
Thirty: The work of drawing out and adding in is the work of guarding against danger; there is no separate method of guarding against danger apart from it. Guarding against danger lies within drawing out and adding in: the two are one and the same. Practitioners should reflect carefully on this.
Thirty-one:
The Mysterious Pearl, a symbol of the internal elixir, takes shape and comes forth with the arising of Yang Qi. When Yang Qi reaches its height, Yin Qi gradually recedes, and the body changes along with it. Only after ten months of warming and nurturing is the elixir considered complete; at that point, even spirits and ghosts are shaken by it.
The “Primordial Pearl” (a mistaken form of “Mysterious Pearl” here) is a pearl of utmost Yang. It symbolizes an innate essence that is complete and luminous, never clouded or dim, and is also another name for the Golden Elixir. It refers to the original goodness and innate capacities that people possess from the beginning—in other words, their original nature. When this nature is still, it does not move; once stirred by an encounter, it can respond and flow through change, like the Mysterious Pearl. The pearl symbolizes a single, firm and genuine awareness within the Daoist mind. It takes shape through the accumulation of righteousness and continues to grow and flourish. When the vast, vital Qi fills body and mind, it becomes luminous and complete, reaching the utmost fullness of Yang energy.
When Yang energy reaches its utmost fullness, it must be balanced by Yin. Yin energy gradually recedes, stripping away impurities from the physical form and thereby nurturing Yang energy and dispelling the dryness and harshness that come from excessive, rigid Yang. This gradual process of shedding and purification takes ten months of practice. After ten months of gentle nurturing, all impurities are gone and the true gold is pure, transforming into “numinous frost”: a state in which true emptiness contains wondrous existence, and wondrous existence in turn harbors true emptiness. The mind no longer deliberately contrives or clings to its views and understanding, but follows the natural order. It is like white frost drifting down through empty space, taking neither the side of “being” nor that of “nonbeing.” Only at this point is the Golden Elixir mature. One who cultivates to this state cannot be constrained by the workings of creation, nor shaken by the myriad things. Their achievements are complete in the human world, while their name is entered in the registers of Heaven. How could spirits and ghosts fail to be stirred by this?
The Embryo-Forming Fire Cycle
Thirty-Two
After the front crescent and before the rear,
The medicine is mild, the full aspect complete.
Gather it and bring it back to forge in the furnace;
Once refined, nurture it with gentle warmth, and let it cook.
The “front crescent” refers to Yang within Yin, signifying that genuine awareness has returned to the center and to what is balanced. The “rear crescent” refers to Yin within Yang. Numinous awareness lies before the front crescent; at this time, the nature of the medicine is mild, and the overall aspect is complete.
After gathering the medicine, bring it back to the furnace for refinement. Once refined, nurture it with a gentle fire cycle so that it cooks of its own accord. Here, “furnace” and “fire cycle” are terms from Neidan (internal alchemy). They refer to the practitioner using the inner body and mind as a furnace, and gradually refining and nurturing Jing, Qi, and Shen through practices such as regulating the breath and cultivating the inner self.
“Front Arc” refers to Yin containing Yang: true knowing—the clear and authentic awareness cultivated in practice—returns to central balance. “Rear Arc” refers to Yang containing Yin: numinous knowing—keen and luminous awareness—also returns to central balance. True knowing and numinous knowing both come to the center, and firmness and softness accord with one another. Their moment of accord falls just after the Front Arc and before the Rear Arc. At this time, neither true knowing nor numinous knowing is excessive or diminished, and both Yin and Yang remain intact.
At just this moment, a small sprout of innate spirit arises: the first medicine to appear in Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Its nature is gentle and balanced, formed through the fusion of Yin and Yang. It should be gathered in time and placed in the “Furnace of Creation”—a metaphor for the body and mind used to refine and nourish Neidan—to be smelted and purified until it condenses into the “Sacred Embryo,” the mature inner accomplishment of Neidan practice. At this stage, the medicine is fire, and fire is medicine. After ten months of nurturing, the natural true fire will cook it of its own accord, gradually bringing it from faintness into prominence and condensing it from the formless into form.
On Yin and Yang returning to the center:
Thirty-three
The eldest son has just drunk wine from the West, and the maiden has also blossomed for the first time in the North. When the Blue Maiden—who symbolizes the Yin side—meets them, they will shut themselves together within the Yellow House, symbolizing the center and the Earth position, bringing Yin and Yang together in one place.
The eldest son, symbolized by the Zhen trigram, corresponds to Zhen. “Wine from the west” refers to the Qi of Metal and Water. On the third day of the lunar month, the moon appears in the Geng direction. Within the extreme Yin, one Yang is born; in the images of the trigrams, this belongs to Zhen. Hence the saying, “The eldest son suddenly drinks wine from the west.”
The young maiden corresponds to the Dui trigram. “Flowers of the northern land” refers to golden flowers born in water. Moonlight appears from the Dui position to the Kun position, and Yang emerges within Yin. Hence the saying, “The young maiden has just blossomed in the northern land.” Both lines describe the first emergence of one Yang. “Suddenly drinks wine” means that one has never drunk before, but now drinks all at once; “has just blossomed” means that the flower had not opened before, but now opens for the first time. These images describe how easily true knowing in the Dao-heart is lost, and how difficult it is to recover.
The Dao-heart has long been obscured, and true knowing has grown dim. In a moment of profound stillness, to rediscover it by chance is like suddenly drinking wine or seeing a flower open for the first time. This is the moment for returning—the practice of restoring body and mind to their original nature—and a rare, auspicious opportunity that must not be missed. One should gather it in at the right time and unite it with numinous awareness, the lucid, knowing aspect of cultivation, then seal it within the Central Yellow Court chamber, which symbolizes the body’s central region in Daoist Neidan practice. When true knowing and numinous awareness meet like husband and wife, the Elixir forms naturally.
Numinous awareness represents “nature.” It belongs to Yin within Yang and corresponds to Wood among the Five Phases; since Wood is associated with the color green, “the Green Maiden” serves as its symbol. Once true knowing and numinous awareness meet, they share one heart and one Qi, and naturally return to the center. Yet returning to the center is not enough. Without understanding how to secure and lock them in, they may part again after joining. One must close the gates and fasten them securely, so that what has not yet united may finally unite, and what has already united may remain joined.
Zhang Sanfeng’s saying, “The maiden in the eastern house and the young man in the western dwelling become husband and wife and enter the bridal chamber; the Yellow Matron urges them to drink ambrosia, and in a single day they lift the veil and get thoroughly drunk,” expresses this principle. The “securing and locking” here serves to prevent danger and guard the process with care. When Yin and Yang first meet, their qualities have not yet become fully pure and unified. One must neither lose them nor force their growth, but guard them closely. Only then will they neither leak away nor disperse, allowing the Golden Elixir to coagulate from the void. This is a crucial secret of cultivation, difficult to learn without transmission from a teacher.
When the Mao month (the Rabbit month, roughly corresponding to the spring equinox) and the You month (the Rooster month, roughly corresponding to the autumn equinox) arrive, along with their corresponding moments, Punishment and Virtue appear together, and signs of the medicine emerge. At this point, the Golden Elixir should undergo bathing. If the fire is kept burning and the refinement continues, there is a danger of collapse and damage.
At the spring equinox in the Mao month, Yang Qi rises between Heaven and Earth; at the autumn equinox in the You month, Yin Qi rises between Heaven and Earth. The spring equinox belongs to Wood and symbolizes the energy of growth, which is “Virtue”; the autumn equinox belongs to Metal and symbolizes the energy of desolation and killing, which is “Punishment.” Virtue enables the myriad things to grow, while Punishment enables them to mature. Without Punishment, Virtue cannot bring things to completion; without Virtue, Punishment cannot be fulfilled. Punishment and Virtue complement each other, allowing the creative transformation of Heaven and Earth to keep the single Qi circulating without end.
Those who cultivate the Dao must understand how firmness and gentleness support each other and return to the middle and the upright. They should be firm and vigorous like the autumn equinox, and gentle like the spring equinox. True knowing and spiritual knowing must both return to the middle and the upright, just as the Virtue of the spring equinox and the Punishment of the autumn equinox each find their proper place. The firmness of true knowing is used to subdue the evil energy in the human mind; the gentleness of spiritual knowing is used to nourish the upright energy in the Dao mind. Be firm when firmness is called for, and gentle when gentleness is called for. Do not miss the right moment, and firmness and gentleness will remain balanced and upright, each occurring in its proper season, like the spring and autumn equinoxes.
When gentleness is contained within firmness and firmness within gentleness, and the two are united, the true spirit will not dissipate. Punishment and Virtue alternate in their operation; this is why it is said that “Punishment and Virtue approach the gate,” and why signs of the medicine appear. When the Dao reaches a balance of firmness, gentleness, and uprightness, the Dao mind remains present and the human mind is clear and still. True knowing and spiritual knowing each find their proper alignment; when the true spirit is unified, innate knowledge and innate capacity emerge, and signs appear that the Golden Elixir is taking shape. At this point, it should be “bathed and gently nurtured”: vigorous refinement is stopped, the elixir is nourished gently, and the furnace fire is withdrawn. If one does not know when to stop and continues to intensify the fire, firmness will become excessive and gentleness insufficient. Firmness and gentleness will again fall out of balance, the medicine will be depleted, and the Golden Elixir damaged; danger will then be hard to avoid.
The moon does not shine by itself; it depends on the sun for its light. Over the course of a year, the sun and moon meet twelve times. Each month has thirty days, and the sun and moon meet once between the last day of the old moon and the first day of the new one. When a person’s true knowing lies buried, Yin energy is pure and Yang energy does not appear, like a moon without light. True knowing must rely on spiritual knowing to shine forth. When spiritual knowing and true knowing meet…
The moon does not shine by itself; it borrows the sun’s light to appear bright. Over the course of a year, the sun and moon meet twelve times. In each month of thirty days, they also meet once, between the dark moon and the new moon. A person’s original true knowing lies buried. When Yin energy is at its height and there is no Yang energy, the person is like a moon without light and must rely on numinous awareness for brightness to appear again. When numinous awareness meets true knowing, it is like the sun and moon meeting within a month.
Those who attain the Way imitate the pattern of the sun and moon’s meeting: they compress the course of thirty days into a single day, then compress the course of a day into a single double-hour. Within that time, they invigorate firm, vigorous Qi, use the human mind to bring forth the Dao mind, and then use the Dao mind to restrain the human mind. They rely on numinous awareness to awaken true knowing, then use true knowing to dispel numinous awareness. They gather the primordial Qi that existed before Heaven and Earth first separated as the foundation for refining the elixir, and follow the patterns of Yin-Yang change to regulate the firing times.
The methods of cultivation include gentle-fire simmering and fierce-fire forging. Guarding a city is like gentle fire; fighting in the open country is like fierce fire. Using gentle fire when it is called for, and fierce fire when it is called for, brings good fortune. Reversing the timing brings misfortune. Gentle fire means turning the light back inward, gathering in the keen faculties of the senses, preventing clever contrivances from stirring recklessly, and devoting oneself to nurturing upright Qi, like guarding a city. Fierce fire means restraining anger, curbing desires, dispelling deluded thoughts, keeping one’s sincerity, and concentrating one’s strength to clear away external harmful influences, like fighting in the open field. One must distinguish the timing of gentle and fierce fire, and of good and ill fortune: when circumstances arise and forceful effort is needed to overcome them, use fierce fire; when nothing is happening, devote yourself to nurturing upright Qi, as if guarding a city.
Through gentle-fire simmering and fierce-fire forging, Yin energy is exhausted and Yang energy becomes pure. True knowing and numinous awareness unite, transforming into innate knowing and ability, and the subtle awakening of one’s nature. At this point, one’s nature is perfectly full, bright, pure, and sincere. In stillness it does not move; when circumstances arise and call for a response, it responds with clarity. It can meet things without losing its stillness. The heart is wholly in accord with the Principle of Heaven, free of personal desires. This is like the cinnabar in the cauldron being refined into red elixir.
Once the cinnabar is refined, a person’s temperament and habits are wholly transformed. It is neither a visible color nor emptiness; it can be said neither to exist nor not to exist. It is purely clear and peaceful Yang Qi. Taking it can dispel illness, prolong life, avert calamity and misfortune, and restore one’s nature to its original state of empty, numinous clarity. It is both true emptiness and wondrous existence. It is not constrained by the transformations of creation or bound by Yin-Yang, and nothing in the myriad things can harm it. Such, too, is the state attained through cultivation.
Yet can there truly be people in this world who understand good and ill fortune but refuse to resolve themselves to cultivate through the application of mind and spirit?
When the two hexagrams Pi and Tai intersect, all things flourish and grow; the two hexagrams Zhun and Meng embody the generation and transformation of all things. Once you understand the principle, there is no need to cling to the hexagram images. Insisting on investigating every line statement will only waste your effort.
In the Pi hexagram, Qian is above and Kun below. The qi of Heaven descends from above, while the qi of Earth rises from below, but Yin and Yang do not join, so the hexagram is called “Obstruction.” In the Tai hexagram, Kun is above and Qian below. Earth qi descends from above, and Heaven qi rises from below; Yin and Yang meet, so the hexagram is called “Peace.” When obstruction reaches its extreme, peace arrives. As soon as Yin and Yang join, all things begin to grow and fill the space between Heaven and Earth.
In the Zhun hexagram, Kan is above and Zhen below. It symbolizes thunder within water: Yang qi begins to emerge within Yin, dispersing Yin qi and spurring the birth of all things. In the Meng hexagram, Gen is above and Kan below. It symbolizes water beneath a mountain: Yang qi is confined within Yin, and so is nurtured, gradually bringing all things to maturity. Pi and Tai speak of the obstruction and free flow of all things; Zhun and Meng speak of their generation and growth. In the end, both obstruction and generation result from the movement and circulation of Yin and Yang. The transformations of all things follow their own nature; they are not forced into being.
Cultivating the Real—that is, cultivating body and mind and realizing the true Dao—also follows the principle of Yin and Yang moving and circulating. When firmness and softness have yet to unite, this is “Obstruction”; when they unite, this is “Peace.” When firmness is called for, one should cultivate the Real through the way of firmness, as in Zhun. When softness is called for, one should nurture one’s true nature through the way of softness, as in Meng. Understand how things move between free flow and obstruction, and how to cultivate and nurture them; apply firmness and softness as the moment requires, and the principle by which the transformations form the sixty-four hexagrams will be present in your own mind.
The purpose of hexagram images is to point toward their underlying principles. Once you grasp those principles, there is no need to cling to the images. If you do not understand the meaning of the hexagrams and hold only to their images, insisting on running the Tai hexagram in the sequence of one, two, then three Yang lines, and on directing the Pi hexagram in the sequence of one, two, then three Yin lines, arranging the three Yang lines to seek free flow might just about make sense. But arranging the three Yin lines to direct obstruction is much harder to explain.
Some also say that the Zi hour of the day is when Yang qi stirs at the Kan position, so one should guard the kidneys at Zi, a practice they call “Morning Zhun.” They say the Wu hour is when Yang qi reaches its limit and stops, so one should guard the heart at Wu, a practice they call “Evening Meng.” Alas, if we interpret Pi, Tai, Zhun, Meng, and the line statements of all sixty-four hexagrams in this way, how could every one of them possibly fit? If we insist on investigating each line statement and demand that they all correspond, would that not be a futile waste of the spirit? The ancient immortals and perfected ones said, “There is no need to seek the Zi and Wu hours at the edge of Heaven; within the body, a single Yang will naturally stir.” These words are enough to show that the hexagram lines should be understood through one’s own cultivation. Students should reflect on this carefully.
Hexagrams were originally used to reveal principles such as Yin-Yang and what is or is not properly balanced. Once their meaning is understood, there is no need to cling to the words and phrases; the significance becomes clear on its own. Yet many people in the world, lost in confusion, fixate on the hexagrams and follow the movements of hexagram Qi, deluding themselves that this will let them ascend to immortality.
The sixty-four hexagrams and three hundred and eighty-four lines of the Zhouyi express nothing more than patterns of Yin-Yang and whether things are balanced and properly centered. If one understands these changes in Yin-Yang and the principles of balance and proper centering, one can use that understanding to harmonize Yin-Yang and naturally accord with the principles shown by the hexagrams. Sadly, some deluded people in the world do not investigate their meaning. Instead, they cling to the hexagrams and insist on practicing in their sequence: practicing the Hexagram of Difficulty at the Beginning in the morning and the Hexagram of Youthful Folly in the evening, proceeding in order from Difficulty at the Beginning and Youthful Folly through to After Completion and Before Completion. They follow what is called “hexagram Qi”—matching hexagrams with the seasons and the movement of Qi in cultivation—in the hope of attaining the Dao and ascending to immortality. This is utterly foolish.
The ancient immortals and perfected beings used the phrase “Dawn Tun, Dusk Meng” to teach that when Yang Qi first arises, it is called “Tun”; when Yang Qi sinks into concealment, it is called “Meng.” Yang Qi’s first arising is like daylight breaking at dawn; its sinking into concealment is like darkness falling at night. When Yang Qi first arises, one should use Yang Fire—the method of refining and cultivating Yang Qi—to gather and draw in Yang Qi. This is called “Dawn Tun.” When Yang Qi sinks into concealment, one should use the Yin Talisman—the method of refining and cultivating Yin and nourishing Yang—to protect Yang Qi. This is called “Dusk Meng.”
“Already Fulfilled, Not Yet Fulfilled” teaches that when Yin and Yang have joined, this is called “Already Fulfilled”; when they have not yet joined, this is called “Not Yet Fulfilled.” Once Yin and Yang have joined, the Golden Elixir has congealed, and the work of Yang Fire is complete. At this point, one must still prevent what is fulfilled from turning into what is unfulfilled, and so the work of the Yin Talisman is essential. Before Yin and Yang have joined, the Golden Elixir has not yet congealed, and the Yin Talisman has no use. To bring what is not yet fulfilled to completion, one must apply Yang Fire at the right time.
The principles contained in the trigrams are those expressed by these four hexagrams. Extending this to the remaining sixty hexagrams, we find only the alternating transformations of Yin and Yang. Thus it is said: “Grasp the images of the hexagrams, and the words can be forgotten; their meaning will then become clear of itself.” If one understands the meaning of the hexagram images, the Celestial Pass lies in one’s grasp, and the axis of the earth turns by one’s intent. Every step accords with the Dao; there is no need to cling to the hexagram images, and one will naturally accord with them. Ah, the Golden Toad and Jade Crow—symbols in alchemical language—are understood only by those who have truly grasped the secret.
Speaking of Geng and Jia
Thirty-Eight
The fullness and decline of Heaven and Earth each have their appointed time. Only by carefully observing waxing and waning can one know their hidden workings. Since ancient times, the principles revealed by Geng and Jia, terms associated with the timing of cultivation and the transformations of Yin and Yang, have offered hope of attaining the Dao to those who follow them and completely eliminate the Three Corpses—the Yin spirits said in Daoism to dwell within the human body and obstruct cultivation.
The pattern of Heaven and Earth is an alternation between fullness and emptiness. When fullness reaches its extreme, it turns into emptiness; when emptiness reaches its extreme, it turns back into fullness. Each has its proper time. A person cultivating the Dao must examine and understand the true principles of waxing and waning, restrain and diminish Yin energy, and help Yang energy grow and flourish. Only then can they grasp the key to the ebb and flow of fullness and emptiness.
Restraining and diminishing Yin energy is the turning point from fullness to emptiness; helping Yang energy grow and flourish is the turning point from emptiness to fullness. But neither diminution nor growth is possible without the feeling of true knowledge and the nature of numinous awareness. The feeling of true knowledge is firm and strong, and belongs to Geng Metal; the nature of numinous awareness is gentle, and belongs to Jia Wood. The firm and strong aspect meets the outside world and subdues unruly, agitated Qi; the gentle aspect steadies the mind and quietly nurtures what is genuine. Using firmness and gentleness together, cultivating both inner and outer dimensions, is called “proclaiming the command of Geng and Jia”: the principle by which firmness and gentleness each fulfill their proper function.
Once this principle is understood, firmness and gentleness can be applied appropriately, and the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang can follow their proper timing. Then righteous Qi can restrain deviant Qi and transform it. Thoughts no longer scatter outward, and external things no longer intrude upon the mind. More fully, the eyes, ears, mouth, tongue, body, and mind are no longer drawn along by external conditions; nor do form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and mental objects—the six objects of perception commonly discussed in Buddhism—disturb the spirit. This is a state of purity, free from defilement. It is called “destroying the Three Corpses.” In Daoism, the Three Corpses are Yin influences said to dwell in the human body, giving rise to desires and draining life. Once the Three Corpses are eliminated, all Yin energy can be transformed, and the Great Dao may at last be attained.
The key to this poem lies in the line, “Examine carefully how to regulate ebb and flow, and only then understand the pivotal moment.” One must first observe attentively and ponder repeatedly, probing down to the finest details. Only through sustained effort over a long period can one see the true principles. Once these are clear, one can apply them with ease; only when one can regulate the waxing and waning of fullness and emptiness does one truly understand the timing. If one cannot regulate their ebb and flow, one cannot yet be said to understand the pivotal moment. Failure to recognize the timing shows that the principles have not been fully discerned. How, then, could one proclaim the principle of firmness and gentleness or eliminate the Three Corpses? Thus, the practice of rectifying the mind and making one’s intentions sincere hinges on “investigating things and extending knowledge”—examining things and deepening one’s understanding.
Two Poems on the Primordial Mysterious Female:
Thirty-Nine
To keep the Valley Spirit forever alive and undying, one must establish its foundation through the “Mysterious Female,” the subtle source that generates the myriad things and harbors the potential for life. After true Jing—the original vital essence spoken of in cultivation—returns to the “Golden Chamber,” the Daoist Neidan term for the place within the body where Jing and Qi are refined and nurtured, …
For the “Valley Spirit” to endure and never perish, its foundation must be established through the “Mysterious Female,” the root in which Yin and Yang unite. When true essence returns to the “Golden Chamber,” the central palace where essence and Qi gather in the body and mind, the light of spiritual clarity can remain without ever departing.
The “Valley Spirit” here refers to the single Qi of primordial emptiness, also called the “sacred embryo.” It is neither a tangible thing nor mere emptiness. In a hazy, profound state, it cannot be seen, heard, or grasped. It is regarded as the point where the Dao mind and the human mind meet, the source of true knowing and spiritual awareness, and the root of both firm strength and yielding gentleness. From it, Heaven, Earth, and humanity come into being. Confucians call it the “Taiji (Supreme Ultimate),” “supreme goodness,” or “supreme sincerity”; Buddhists call it “perfect awakening,” the “Dharma body,” or “ta li”; Daoists call it the “Golden Elixir,” the “sacred embryo,” or the “Valley Spirit.” In essence, it is the innate capacity for knowing what is right and doing what is good, like the numinous spirit that appears in an empty valley. Once one enters the acquired state, Yin and Yang divide. The false comes to dominate, while the true recedes, and the Valley Spirit seems buried, as if dead.
To cultivate the Golden Elixir, one must first bring the Valley Spirit back to life; to revive it, one must harmonize Yin and Yang. Without harmony between Yin and Yang, the Valley Spirit cannot coalesce. “Origin” belongs to Yang and refers to firm strength; “Female” belongs to Yin and refers to yielding gentleness. Only when firmness and gentleness are both present can the Valley Spirit endure, thereby establishing the foundation for cultivation. This is because the Valley Spirit forms through the union of firm and yielding, centered and balanced, Yin and Yang Qi.
When Yin and Yang unite, one senses, amid a hazy profundity, something seemingly present within them. This is called the “essence of the True One.” The essence of the True One is another name for the Valley Spirit: before it has been refined, it appears and disappears, and is called true essence; after refinement, when it has gathered and no longer disperses, it is called the Valley Spirit. When true essence returns to the Golden Chamber and essence and Qi settle into harmony, the Valley Spirit coalesces. Once it has coalesced, the Dao mind remains constant and the human mind is brought under control; true knowing and spiritual awareness become one. Innate knowledge and ability then accord wholly with the principle of Heaven: at rest, they do not stir; when things arise, they respond with understanding. One can respond to affairs while remaining at rest, and the light of spiritual clarity never departs.
For the light of the spirit to remain without departing is for the Valley Spirit to endure and never perish. The Valley Spirit’s deathlessness is also what the Immortal Master meant when he said, “Swallow one grain of the Golden Elixir, and only then will you know that your destiny does not depend on Heaven.” The Valley Spirit, true essence, and the light of the spirit all refer to the same thing. They are simply names for different states, such as what is not yet formed and what has already been formed; they are not three separate things.
Very few people truly understand the “Gate of the Mysterious Female.” Many take only the mouth and nose to be the gateways of cultivation and practice breathing techniques blindly. Even if they cultivated this way for a thousand years, how could they bring the “Golden Crow” and the “Jade Hare” together?
Laozi says, “The Valley Spirit never dies; this is called the Primal Female.” The Gate of the Primal Female is the source of Heaven and Earth. “Primal” symbolizes the Yang of Qian, with its vigorous De; “Female” symbolizes the Yin of Kun, with its yielding De. Yang governs movement, Yin governs stillness, and the changes between movement and stillness in the Valley Spirit are the workings of the Gate of the Primal Female.
This gate gives birth to Heaven, Earth, and all things. It is utterly empty, yet contains what is real; utterly vacant, yet holds fullness within. In the human body, it lies in a place that cannot be located among the limbs and bones, like a hollow, suspended cavity at the very center of Heaven and Earth. It opens and closes in its own time, and its movement and stillness arise naturally. It has no fixed location or concrete form, so it is also called the “Primal Pass.” The Primal Pass is utterly empty and numinous, belonging neither to being nor nonbeing. It is therefore also called the “Gate of the Many Wonders”: all principles are present through it, and all virtues are held within it.
If the mouth and nose are taken to be the Gate of the Mysterious Female, and one merely breathes out turbid Qi, how could the Golden Crow and Jade Hare be brought together on the Yellow Path, to condense into the most numinous elixir? The Golden Crow symbolizes the sun, which contains Yin. In the human body, it corresponds to the yielding, centered, and upright De: the numinous nature of spiritual awareness. The Jade Hare symbolizes the moon, which contains Yang. In the human body, it corresponds to the vigorous, centered, and upright De: the true feeling of genuine knowledge. The centered and upright De expressed by spiritual awareness and genuine knowledge is the Primal Yang and the Yin Female, the Qi of the two crescents. The Valley Spirit is formed when the Qi of the two crescents coalesces.
Without understanding the Primal Female, how could one understand the Crow and Hare? Without understanding the Crow and Hare, how could one keep the Valley Spirit alive and attain longevity? What kind of gate is this? Follow it and one moves toward death; reverse one’s course and life becomes possible. People often search for it without finding it, which shows how difficult the Primal Female is to understand.
The foundation of Golden Elixir cultivation lies in two substances, one firm and one yielding, and nothing else. The firm one is a clear, true, and sincere feeling; the yielding one is an innate nature that is subtle and wondrous. Nature and feeling have different names, but in truth both arise from the primordial, undifferentiated Qi, empty and pure. The Qi of the True One is the “Valley Spirit” mentioned in the poem above; nature and feeling are the “Original Female” and “Original Male” mentioned earlier—the two forces that unite Yin and Yang and give rise to life.
The union of the Original Female and Original Male is the key to cultivating the immortal Valley Spirit. In the natural Dao of the precelestial state, the Valley Spirit gives rise to the Original Female and Original Male. In the return path of the postcelestial state, the Original Female and Original Male coalesce once more into the Valley Spirit. If they do not unite, the Valley Spirit cannot take shape. Establishing the Original Female and Original Male and forming the Valley Spirit preserves life and the body, and reveals how to increase Yang Qi and diminish Yin Qi: increase Yang without cease until there is nothing left to add; diminish Yin without cease until there is nothing left to remove. Once Yin Qi is gone and Yang is pure, the Valley Spirit can endure forever. Then all is a single, undivided Qi, utterly free of impurity, whole and radiant, clear and unstained. It is no longer bound by the transformations of creation and cannot be harmed by external things. Like a purple-gold elixir refined through the proper firing process, it can bring the dying back to life—an uncanny and wondrous power.
On deliberate action:
42
At the beginning of cultivation, when deliberate action is required, people often cannot see what is happening. Once the state of Wuwei (non-action) is attained, everyone can see it. People see only the mystery of Wuwei, unaware that deliberate action is its foundation.
Ancient practitioners said, “Nature and life must be cultivated together, and the work has two stages.” The Way of the Golden Elixir encompasses both the cultivation of life and the cultivation of nature. Life is cultivated through “active methods,” while nature is cultivated through Wuwei (non-action). Here, “active methods” means specific practices; “non-action” means not clinging to deliberate effort, but focusing on nurturing one’s nature. The active path uses techniques to prolong life and strengthen the body; the non-action path uses the Dao (the Way) to care for the body and nature.
Cultivation begins with active methods, using practices to transform and strengthen the foundation of life. This work depends entirely on the operation of prescribed methods. It employs innate original Qi (vital energy) to turn the pivot of Heaven and Earth’s transformations, reverse the sequence of the twenty-four solar terms, and grasp the principles behind the changes of the seventy-two pentads. Heaven and Earth, spirits and gods, and even the milfoil stalks and tortoise shells used in divination cannot fathom these changes. How, then, could ordinary people easily perceive them?
Ultimately, cultivation must return to Wuwei, nurturing nature through the path of non-action. The method for cultivating nature is to embrace the Origin and guard the One, allowing all things to return to emptiness and stillness. It is like a hen sitting on her eggs or a pearl held within an oyster: one focuses on guarding what is within. When the practice matures, the mind becomes utterly clear and sincere, and wisdom opens wide. One can grasp the meaning of a sound upon hearing it and foresee good or ill fortune.
Yet people often know only that the path of non-action is mysterious, and do not realize that the path of active methods is its foundation. Without understanding active methods, speaking only of non-action cannot cultivate life or truly cultivate nature. Even if one practices, one is merely cultivating the temperament shaped by acquired influences. How could that restore the innate nature at the root? The “nature at the root” referred to here is the nature bestowed by Heaven’s mandate.
Nature and life were originally one, not two separate things. Later, affected by the changes of acquired Yin-Yang, they separated, and the original unity divided into nature and life. Once separated, nature can no longer care for life, nor life for nature. Life is pulled along by external things and loses its own agency, while the mind and nature become unsettled. As the mind grows confused and life becomes unstable, false and true thoughts intermingle; the principles of Heaven contend with personal desires. The illusory gains the upper hand, and true nature retreats. Day after day, year after year, Yin continually wears away Yang, and nature and life inevitably decline and are lost.
Therefore, in cultivating the Golden Elixir, one must first return from acquired cultivation to the innate and restore the original treasure of life. Once this treasure is obtained, one holds the power to govern one’s own life and is no longer swayed by the transformations of creation. Then one embraces the Origin and guards the One, follows the path of non-action, and realizes the true nature of emptiness. Only then can one reach the highest level of cultivation. Sadly, some who cling to a stubborn emptiness and extinction speak only of non-action and fail to understand the importance of cultivating through active methods.
On the Female and the Male:
Darkness contains a white light. This refers to the Mother of the Elixir, the foundation from which the Elixir forms—that is, the Dao-heart, the heart aligned with the Great Dao, whose genuine knowledge has a firm, upright, and balanced nature. Within the male Yang is hidden the female Yin. This refers to the sacred embryo, the inner foundation nurtured through cultivation—that is, the innate numinous knowing of the human heart, which has a yielding, upright, and balanced nature.
When firmness and yielding unite, and hardness and softness resonate through the same Qi, the human heart transforms into the Dao-heart, and numinous knowing returns to genuine knowledge. This is called “the Great One containing true Qi.” The Great One is a name for the spirit in which Yin and Yang are blended and made pure and unified; it is also another name for the Golden Elixir. Place this true Qi of the Great One in the furnace of creation and nurture it there. Carefully seal it in and guard it without letting it escape. Then Jing, Qi, and Shen will become abundant, and the Three Fields, where the Three Treasures arise, will gather them—like the Three Terraces stars supporting the North Pole Star. The cultivator will then be able to master the workings of creation.
The Three Fields discussed here are not Guanyuan, Yellow Court, or Niwan; nor are they the Dantian, Crimson Palace, or Valley of Heaven; still less are they bodily locations such as the Coccyx, Spinal Pass, or Jade Pillow. They are the places where the precelestial Jing, Qi, and Shen—the three great medicines—come into being. They have no form or shape and no fixed location. They are called “fields” because Jing, Qi, and Shen arise there; they are called the “Three Fields” because Jing, Qi, and Shen are three distinct things. In truth, the Three Fields together are one field, and the Three Treasures together are one treasure. Cultivation proceeds through three stages—refining Jing into Qi, refining Qi into Shen, and refining Shen into emptiness—and that is why they are called the Three Fields. At the stage of refining Shen into emptiness, only the void remains. Jing, Qi, and Shen leave no trace, and there can no longer be any question of Three Fields.
On Being and Nonbeing:
Within the indistinct and obscure, seek what can be seen; within the deep and silent darkness, seek the genuine essence and Qi. This is where being and nonbeing begin to mingle.
Within a state of hazy obscurity, one can find images coming into view; in profound stillness, one can seek the subtle reality. Light and darkness, being and nonbeing, begin to mingle here. If you have not witnessed this for yourself, how could you imagine it out of thin air and succeed in cultivation?
“Hazy obscurity” refers to a state that is neither a tangible thing nor complete emptiness, and that is difficult to define. “Deep darkness” refers to a profoundly still and hidden realm beyond sight. The images that appear in hazy obscurity are numinous knowing—the clear awareness of spirit. The True Essence concealed in deep darkness is “true knowing,” an awareness of inner reality. Numinous knowing manifests outwardly as Yang and contains Yin within; it is the “nonbeing” within “being.” True knowing manifests outwardly as Yin and contains Yang within; it is the “being” within “nonbeing.”
To refine the Golden Elixir, cultivators must seek numinous knowing in hazy obscurity and seek true knowing in deep darkness. If they grasp this with focused attention and comprehend it through Shen, discerning what is real within it, this may be called “having seen.” Once they have seen, they use true knowing to govern numinous knowing, and numinous knowing to nurture true knowing. In this way, being and nonbeing depend on and interact with each other, and the Golden Elixir can be refined. If one does not understand the images in hazy obscurity or the True Essence in deep darkness, and does not know what ingredients are needed for refining the Elixir, how could one hope to form it out of thin air?
When the Four Images converge, the mysterious original substance takes shape; where the Five Phases are complete, a purple-gold radiance appears. After shedding the old womb and taking in the Golden Elixir, the body reaches a sacred realm, astonishing countless dragon spirits.
Purple-gold: Some editions read “purple radiance.”
The Dao of refining the Elixir lies entirely in gathering the Five Phases and harmonizing the Four Images.
To refine the Golden Elixir until it shines like purple gold (some versions say “purple light”), one must bring the Five Phases together and harmonize the Four Images. Once the Four Images unite, nature and emotion, Jing and Shen merge into one, and the original primordial substance takes shape. If one can then remain centered and upright, refining it with the natural true fire, this is called “the Five Phases complete.”
When the Five Phases are complete, benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom all return to “trustworthiness,” while nature, emotion, Jing, and Shen all transform into a single Qi. Firmness and softness merge, and their distinction disappears; true knowing and spiritual knowing likewise transform into innate knowledge and ability. The heart is wholly good and free of evil, merging completely with the principles of Heaven. It is perfectly integrated and unobstructed, inwardly empty, clear, and undimmed. It contains the principles of all things and can respond to every circumstance. It is like gold refined into purple gold, with its radiance shining from within.
The scripture’s phrase “swallow and take it” refers to the complete transformation of acquired, stagnant Yin, allowing the innate Dharma-body to emerge. This becomes the foundation for entering the realm of the sages. At this stage of cultivation, one can master one’s own life, astonishing even the dragon spirits. Here, “entering the mouth” means sudden realization; it does not mean literally swallowing an elixir. When innate Qi has been refined to maturity, the results of cultivation suddenly shift from gradual progress to completion, and from understanding the principles to sincerely embodying them. This is like an elixir entering the mouth and instantly dispelling every illness, enabling body and mind to reach the sacred realm. Practitioners of the Dao should grasp the meaning behind the words and not cling to their literal wording or imagery. Innate Qi has no form or appearance; if “entering the mouth” meant swallowing it, what exactly would one swallow and take? Understanding this makes the scripture’s true meaning clear.
Forty-Six
The banquet in the Jade Pool, a symbol of harmony between body and mind in cultivation, is over, and the moon shines clear. Mount the Golden Dragon and travel to the Purple Tenuity, the seat of the imperial star in Heaven and, by extension, the celestial realm.
From then on, after meeting with the immortals, let the seas become fields and the mountains turn into valleys: the changes of the world will no longer be an obstacle.
The feast in the Flower Pool—a metaphor for a pure state within body and mind during alchemical cultivation—has ended. This means taking the true Yang hidden within the Kan trigram, which symbolizes water, and placing it in the furnace of creation, a metaphor for the vessel in which the body’s inner transformation takes place, so that the Dao-heart may become calm and full.
“The moon shines with clear radiance” means that the Dao-heart is ever present, and the bright light of wisdom born of true knowing shines without concealment. “Riding a golden dragon”: Qian belongs to Metal and also symbolizes the dragon. This means taking the Yang of true knowing, represented by the Dao-heart in Kan, to fill the Yin of numinous knowing contained in the Li trigram, which symbolizes fire. In this way, numinous knowing is also transformed into true knowing, and Li returns to Qian, allowing one’s original nature to appear fully. At this point, one is wholly in accord with the order of Heaven: complete, unobstructed, and brilliantly radiant, becoming a body of pure Yang without Yin.
“To visit the Purple Tenuity”: the Great Emperor of Purple Tenuity is the ruler of creation and the pivot of the stars. When Daoist cultivation reaches the point of restoring the Qian body, the ruler is within oneself, and one seems to hold the Gate of Heaven in one’s hand; the movements of Heaven and Earth turn with the heart. Creation can no longer bind one, and the myriad things can no longer unsettle one. Thus one visits Purple Tenuity and keeps company with Heaven. One’s accomplishments in the human world are complete, and one’s name endures in Heaven. From then on, one meets with the immortals; even as the seas rise and fall and mountains, ridges, and valleys change, the Dharma-body remains intact for ages.
The Elixir Condenses Within:
To understand the return of the Golden Elixir through liquid gold—a method of inner cultivation that gathers Jing, Qi, and Shen and restores them to their original purity—one must sow and nurture the seed in one’s own home.
There is no need to promote it deliberately or force it through effort. The Elixir matures on its own, and the true embryo will then emerge through transformation.
The practice of returning the Golden Elixir requires a “great medicine” that is actually close at hand, not far away; the method is simple and uncomplicated. The medicine is already present in one’s innate nature and can be cultivated at any time. There is no need to seek a furnace and cauldron outside oneself or to fan the flames. It can mature naturally, bringing one to a state of transformation and transcendence.
The “Elixir” referred to here is the innate, empty, undivided True Qi (vital energy). It is the numinous root from when Heaven and Earth first separated, and the fundamental Qi from which all things arise. When concealed, it is called “True Emptiness”; when it manifests, “Wondrous Being”; when put into practice, “the Dao Heart”; and when nurtured, “the Valley Spirit.” It seems utterly nonexistent, yet contains what is utterly real; it seems utterly empty, yet contains what is utterly substantial. It holds the Qi of the Five Phases, yet has none of their forms or qualities. Though hidden within the Five Phases, it is not constrained by them. Becoming a sage or worthy, a Buddha or an immortal, all arise from this.
This True Qi is nothing other than one’s original nature, which is neither caught in forms nor identical with emptiness, and the naturally kind and good heart one is born with. Only because of acquired habits and influences does the discriminating consciousness—the cognitive spirit—take charge, obscuring the original nature so that it no longer shows itself. If one meets a true master who offers guidance, one will understand that the foundation of cultivation lies within oneself; it need not be obtained from other people or external things. Once one begins to nurture it, it gradually grows from faint to manifest and matures naturally. Thus the Immortal Master said, “One should sow and cultivate in one’s own garden.” Those who seek outside themselves through heterodox methods of cultivation should also awaken and turn back.
What is meant by “the medicine comes from outside”:
There is no need to resort to clever devices or treat external actions as the work of cultivation. One must recognize the “deathless formula of the Other Household”—a term in alchemy for seeking the way to longevity within oneself. In the gourd, one continually adds wine that prolongs life; in the cauldron, one gathers the nectar that brings the dead back to life. The “gourd,” “cauldron,” “wine,” and “nectar” are all symbolic terms in Neidan cultivation, referring to the Essence and Qi nurtured and gathered in practice, and to the results they produce.
The previous poem says that one must sow seeds in one’s own garden. The author worries that this might lead some to think that they need only cultivate their physical form, so he immediately adds: “Do not use cunning or forceful methods to seek results; recognize the way to long life that comes from ‘another’s home.’”
The phrase “sowing and planting in the home garden” means that the substances needed to refine the Golden Elixir are already complete and fully present in everyone. They do not increase in a sage or diminish in an ordinary person. There is no need to seek them outside; they are present within oneself. The phrase “the deathless way of another’s home” means that when precelestial Qi and postcelestial Qi meet, the conscious spirit—the mind that distinguishes and deliberates—takes charge, and Yin Qi traps Yang Qi. What seemed to belong to oneself then becomes the possession of “another’s home.”
To return to the root and restore the original state, one must use the method of pursuing and gathering, reclaiming the original Yang that has already been lost. Once it returns, it is once again one’s own. What has not yet arrived belongs to “another”; what has arrived belongs to “me.” Only when the future is distinguished from what has already come about do the categories of “another’s home” and “my home” arise. Therefore, while the original Yang has yet to arrive, one must cultivate steadily, gathering and refining it step by step, continually replenishing and drawing it in. This is the practice of “action.” Though called action, it in fact follows the natural course. This action means drawing upon Yin and Yang and taking the life force of creation; it does not mean using various cunning arts.
“Continually adding the life-prolonging wine” means increasing true knowing in the Dao-heart to strengthen life. “Gathering the soul-restoring elixir” means making the numinous knowing in the human heart empty and still, so as to nourish one’s nature. The “life-prolonging wine” refers to golden juice, and the “soul-restoring elixir” to wood liquid. By continually replenishing Metal Qi and gathering in the Qi of Metal and Wood, one brings feeling and nature into accord and concentrates true knowing with numinous knowing; then the Golden Elixir takes visible form.
The four characters “continually replenish and gather” carry profound meaning. Yin and Yang have long been scattered and separated. Without ongoing replenishment and gathering, pursued gradually, Metal and Wood cannot unite, and nature and feeling cannot come into harmony. Only by continually replenishing and gathering, cultivating carefully day and night, neither forgetting nor forcing, can Metal and Wood eventually join of their own accord and nature and feeling naturally harmonize. In this way, life can be prolonged, the original spirit restored, and one can enter the realm of long life without death.
The pure essence condensed in the snowy mountains—the finest cream known as tīhú—is poured into the alchemical furnace of creation in the east and refined. Only by crossing the Kunlun Mountains and traveling northwest could Zhang Qian meet Magu and enter the realm of immortality. The images of tīhú, the furnace of creation, and the journey across Kunlun describe the process of bringing internal and external alchemy together, refining and cultivating them until one reaches the land of the immortals. Zhang Qian and Magu are both figures in Daoist legend associated with journeys to the immortal realm.
The Snowy Mountains in the west belong to Metal and symbolize the original feeling. The creamy essence belongs to Water and symbolizes the original Jing (essence). Dongyang in the east belongs to Wood and symbolizes the original nature. The furnace of creation belongs to Fire and symbolizes the original Shen (spirit). Take the Metal and Water corresponding to the original feeling and original Jing, and pour them into the Wood and Fire corresponding to the original nature and original feeling: use Wood and Fire to refine Metal and Water, and use Metal and Water to restrain Wood and Fire. Only through restraint by punishment can De (Virtue/Power) be achieved; through the nurturing of De, punishment too can be brought to completion. When punishment and De are used together, Metal and Wood can unite, Water and Fire can harmonize, and the Four Elements can be brought into balance. Then the Elixir is refined. This is a symbol of the Waidan (external alchemy) method.
Mount Kunlun lies in the northwest between Heaven and Earth and is the ancestral source of the mountain ranges. Here it is used as a metaphor for the innate Qi (vital energy) of the True One, the fundamental energy from which all things arise. The northwest belongs to Qian, the highest direction in the terrain; high places belong to Yang. Zhang Qian symbolizes Yang, and Magu symbolizes Yin.
Once the Return Elixir has formed, it transforms into the Qi of the True One, becoming gradually more apparent from a faint beginning. When Yang energy is full, the Great Medicine begins to arise. At this point, the principle of Heaven is whole and undivided, firm, strong, and centered, condensing into a single pill of utmost Yang. Use this pill to transform the acquired Yin energy throughout the body, as a cat catches a mouse: the false Yin energy is dissolved, revealing the true Yin energy. Yin and Yang merge completely and form the sacred embryo. Hence the saying: “If one crosses beyond Kunlun and goes northwest, Zhang Qian is then able to meet Magu.” The words “is then able to meet” contain the stages of cultivation: before the Return Elixir reaches the height of Yang, Zhang Qian cannot meet Magu; only after Yang has been cultivated to its peak can they meet.
When true Yin and true Yang meet, both the Dao-heart and the human heart transform into the good heart; true knowing and numinous knowing alike become innate knowing. At this point, a pearl the size of a millet grain hangs within the void. It is neither a form with visible shape nor emptiness; it can illuminate the vast world without obstruction. This is a symbol of the Neidan (internal alchemy) method.
Waidan means recovering what was lost: returning from the outside to the inside, a process called the Return Elixir. Neidan builds on the Return Elixir, continuing to refine away Yin energy until true whiteness emerges from within; this is called the Great Elixir. Once Waidan is refined, Neidan is complete. With the work accomplished, one may roam freely in the realm of Nothingness.
Yang Essence
If you do not understand what Yang Essence is—the pure Yang essence and Qi of the precelestial state—and cannot distinguish host from guest, you will not know which kind of essence is close to you and which is distant. Practicing only by closing the coccygeal point during sexual intercourse has led many people in the world astray for nothing.
Yuanzhuzi said: “Yang Essence is stored within the human body, but not in the heart or kidneys. It is in the Yuan Pass, the crucial aperture spoken of in cultivation. Yang Essence is the most Yang and most refined essence, without even a trace of Yin turbidity. It is the firm, upright, and pure nature that people possess from the beginning. When stored, it is the void; when it manifests, it is wondrous presence. It is also the innate good conscience, known as the Dao Mind. It differs from the postcelestial essence, which is mixed with Yin turbidity.
“Yang Essence governs the transformations within the body and can dispel harmful influences. The ancients called it the Essence of the True One, the Water of the True One, or the Qi of the True One; all these names refer to the Yang Essence within the Dao Mind. Yang Essence arose before Heaven and Earth, so it is the host. Yin Essence came into being only after Heaven and Earth, so it is the guest. The host is close to me; the guest is distant. If you mistake Yin Essence for Yang Essence, practice sexual techniques for controlling women, and imagine that you can form the Elixir by closing the coccygeal point and restraining Yin Essence, how could you possibly succeed?
“Though Yang Essence is said to be obtained ‘within the chamber,’ ‘chamber’ here does not mean a house; it refers to the human body. This is also what the Immortal Master meant by saying, ‘Every household has it; everyone plants its seed.’ The words should not be understood as referring to a house. Those who cultivate the Dao and wish to recognize Yang Essence should first seek the Yuan Pass. Once they recognize the Yuan Pass, they will know where Yang Essence is.”
Returning to the Root
All things flourish in profusion, yet in the end they return to their root. Returning to the root and restoring the source of life allows them to endure. Few can comprehend the constant Dao and return to the root; stories of people recklessly taking action and bringing calamity upon themselves, however, are often heard.
All things grow in spring, flourish in summer, draw inward in autumn, and are stored away in winter. This is the natural order. After growth comes drawing inward and storing away; this is called “returning to the root.” Returning to the source is called “restoring one’s Mandate.” To restore one’s Mandate is to revive the life force bestowed by Heaven. Once revived, this life force can sprout anew from its source, allowing it to endure without decline or death. If people understand the natural secret by which all things endure, and can return to the root and restore their Mandate, they too can endure and become immortals.
To understand how to return to the source and root, one must grasp the profound principles and subtle practices involved. There are distinctions between mature and immature medicines, and between fast and slow firing. There are inner and outer medicines, inner and outer firing, gentle and vigorous firing, as well as different stages of firing involved in gathering the medicine, calcining it, forming the Elixir, and releasing the Elixir, along with cultivating life and cultivating nature. A true master must transmit each of these stages in turn so that the practitioner can follow the proper method. Otherwise, if one avoids seeking instruction and relies only on one’s own cleverness and knowledge, guessing at the method and rushing into practice under the impression that one has understood, even the slightest error can lead to a grave deviation. The dangers of acting blindly are easy to foresee.
On the Wisdom Sword
52
Ou Yezi personally passed down the method of forging a sword. Mo Xie blended metal with water, bringing hardness and softness into harmony.
Once forged, the precious sword seemed to understand people’s thoughts. When swung, it flashed like lightning and could strike down demons and evil spirits even from ten thousand miles away.
The “sword” spoken of here is a weapon of protection, and also an instrument of wisdom used in attaining Buddhahood and immortality. It is what enables one to become a sage and is what is called the “returning Elixir.” This does not mean that, apart from the returning Elixir, there is another sword.
The sword is an implement for protecting oneself, and also a wisdom tool needed to become a Buddha, an immortal, or a sage. Here it refers to the Returned Elixir—the Neidan (internal alchemy) gained through cultivation that restores one to one’s original nature. Beyond the Returned Elixir, there is no other sword. The Returned Elixir means returning to one’s original innate knowledge and ability, uniting firmness and gentleness in a state of true spiritual clarity. To forge the sword is to refine this innate knowledge and ability into a wisdom tool in which firmness and gentleness are one. In its fundamental nature, it is called the Elixir; in its function, it is called the sword. In truth, the Elixir and the sword are one and the same, not two separate things.
In ancient times, Ouyezi tried many times to forge a sword but did not succeed. His wife, Moxie, leapt into the furnace, and the sword was forged in a single attempt. Later generations called it the Moxie Treasure Sword, renowned for its peerless sharpness. Those who cultivate the Dao must first forge this sword: take Qi (vital energy) that is balanced in firmness and gentleness, temper it with water and fire, and refine it into a precious implement called the Wisdom Sword. Worn at one’s side, it can be wielded at will: as if dispelling evil and delusion thousands of miles away in a single instant.
Through the story of Ouyezi and Moxie, the Immortal Master explains the principle of uniting firmness and gentleness, with profound meaning. Those who cultivate the Dao must understand both firmness and gentleness and bring them both into balance. Only then can they transform postcelestial Yin—the sluggish Yin bias formed after birth. Being gentle when firmness is called for, firm when gentleness is called for, excessively impatient in one’s firmness, or timid in one’s gentleness: none of these is balanced, just as an uncompleted sword is not yet a sword. Without a finished sword, the mind has no master; cultivation is obstructed at every turn. How, then, could one complete the Great Dao? Yet the method of forging the sword is not easy to understand, and how to combine firmness and gentleness is especially difficult to grasp. Without a true master’s personal transmission and oral instruction, trying to work it out alone is ultimately futile.
Harmonizing Nature and Temperament:
Fifty-Three
Strike the bamboo to summon the turtle, and make it swallow Jade Fungus;
Play a tune on the qin to call the phoenix, and have it drink a measure of elixir.
Lately, golden light has appeared throughout the body;
this method is not spoken of to ordinary people.
Bamboo is hollow and empty within; strike it, and it responds with a sound. The qin already has a voice; tune its strings, and it sounds in harmony. The tortoise symbolizes the cultivation of breath, while the phoenix symbolizes the forms of civilization. Jade fungus symbolizes tenderness and longevity; the knife and measure symbolize pure, unmixed essence. The tortoise, knife, and measure belong to Yang; the phoenix, jade, and fungus belong to Yin.
The Way of the Golden Elixir has only two essentials: emptying the heart and filling the belly. There is no other method. When the human heart becomes empty and still, the Dao heart arises, and the belly fills along with it, like striking bamboo and summoning the tortoise. Once the belly is full, the strength of the Dao heart is used to restrain the weakness of the human heart, like a tortoise swallowing jade fungus. When true knowing appears, numinous awareness grows still, and the heart becomes clear, like playing the qin and drawing the phoenix near. Once the heart is clear, the nature of numinous awareness is used to nourish the feelings of true knowing, like a phoenix drinking from the knife and measure.
The Dao heart and true knowing, the human heart and numinous awareness, emptiness and fullness, respond to one another; strength and softness merge into one. One can respond to things and yet remain constantly still. In this way, one reaches a state of complete harmony, brightness, purity, and openness. The body and mind, within and without, are illuminated, and one enters the easeful, centered realm of the sage. This is the Way of drawing upon Yin-Yang, seizing the workings of creation, turning Heaven and Earth, and reversing the movement of Qi, so that the practitioner acts ahead of Heaven’s timing and even Heaven cannot thwart the practice. How could such a teaching be casually told to ordinary people?
Gradual and Sudden
54
The medicine takes form only when it encounters things of the same breath and kind; the Dao exists in what is subtle and difficult to perceive, and accords with nature.
Only after swallowing a single numinous Elixir does one realize that one’s destiny is not decreed by Heaven.
The “medicine of the same breath and kind” refers to the things cultivated whose natures correspond and can resonate with one another. “The true Yang of true knowing” refers to the Yang aspect of true knowing in Neidan cultivation.
“Medicines of the same Qi and kind” refers to the Yin-Yang energies that correspond to one another in inner cultivation: True Yang revealed through true knowing, and True Yin revealed through numinous awareness. Only when True Yin and True Yang unite can they gather out of the formless and shapeless and take on a perceptible form.
What cannot be heard is called “the rarefied”; what cannot be seen is called “the subtle.” When neither hearing nor sight can grasp it, the Dao returns to emptiness and stillness. A single Qi flows as an undivided whole, alive with generative vitality. At this point, there is no deliberate thought or action. The mind is still and unmoving, yet responds to things and understands their principles. Everything follows its natural course, without being forced.
At first, Yin and Yang gather; then they merge into one. A numinous Elixir hangs in the empty expanse, illuminating the earth, mountains, and rivers everywhere. When the Elixir is swallowed, its radiance fills the five viscera and six bowels. Yin energy is exhausted, and the postnatal trigrams—the signs of Yin-Yang change—are transformed in turn. Only then does the cultivator understand that they can govern their own nature and life, rather than be ruled by Heaven’s decree.
The first two lines describe the shift from effortful practice to naturalness; the last three describe entering sudden awakening through natural cultivation. “The numinous Elixir enters the belly” means sudden awakening. When Dao cultivation reaches sudden awakening, one no longer clings to existence or nonexistence, and Heaven and Earth alike return to emptiness and stillness. One transcends Yin-Yang and is no longer bound by its changes; one’s nature and life are then governed by oneself. Without sudden awakening, one still moves within the changes of Yin and Yang, and one’s nature and life remain subject to Heaven’s decree. The word “beginning” indicates the result attained through cultivation.
On How Easily the Elixir Is Formed
Fifty-Five
The brilliant Golden Elixir can be refined in a single day. The words left by the ancient immortals are truly worth heeding.
Claims that it takes nine years or three years are merely ways of putting it off.
To form the Golden Elixir (the elixir produced through Neidan cultivation), everyone already possesses the essential conditions, as if every household had a treasure ready at hand. If one can investigate its principles deeply, seek out a clear-sighted teacher, truly distinguish the two medicines known as “true knowing” and “numinous knowing” (two elements in Neidan cultivation), recognize the “single aperture of the Primordial Pass” (a crucial gateway or point in cultivation), and apply oneself decisively, one can reach the other shore directly and form a luminous, pure-Yang Golden Elixir in a single day. Why spend three or nine years? The words left by the immortals of old are not false.
Yet forming the elixir may be accomplished in an instant; afterward, it must still be nurtured for ten months (through steady regulation of the breath and sustained cultivation, so that the elixir becomes stable and mature). Without this nurturing, the Golden Elixir cannot become stable, and in the end it will be gained only to be lost again. The saying “the elixir forms in a single day” refers only to the joining of Yin and Yang and the initial formation of the elixir. It does not mean that the Golden Elixir has already matured. To bring it to maturity, one must follow the Yin Talisman and Yang Fire (the principles for regulating the firing process in Neidan cultivation), increasing and diminishing it as needed: continually advancing when it should be increased, and continually reducing when it should be diminished. Only when nothing more can be added and nothing more can be reduced is the complete, pure-Yang Golden Elixir fully refined. How could a mature Golden Elixir be refined in a single day?
In the previous poem, the Immortal Master (an honorific title in Daoism) says: “Even if you understand cinnabar and black lead, without understanding the firing process, you have accomplished nothing. In the end, all depends on cultivation; the slightest error, and the elixir will not form.” A later lyric says: “If you wish to cultivate the Nine-Turn Golden Elixir, you must first refine the self and hold fast to the mind.” From this, one can understand what is meant by saying that the Golden Elixir “forms in a single day.”
Fifty-Six
Cultivating the Great Medicine can be easy or difficult; I know that this depends both on oneself and on Heaven’s will. If one does not cultivate and accumulate hidden virtue (good deeds done without seeking recognition), groups of demons will often come to obstruct the practice.
The preceding verses say that the Golden Elixir can be formed in a single day, making it seem easy. But the author fears that those who study the Dao may take the Great Dao lightly, neglect cultivating Virtue, and still presume to become immortals. These verses therefore explain the importance of Virtue.
What Heaven bestows on people is Virtue; what people offer in return to Heaven is also Virtue. Heaven rejoices in those who have Virtue, making the cultivation of nature and life easier and leaving them in control of their own course. Heaven is angered by those who lack Virtue, making the cultivation of the Dao difficult and leaving the outcome to Heaven’s will. Why is this so? Those who lack Virtue and good conduct are not tolerated by ghosts and spirits. They often encounter demonic obstructions in their endeavors and are more likely to suffer misfortune and illness, ultimately abandoning the path halfway through. Therefore, those who cultivate the Dao must first cultivate Virtue. When Virtue is deep and abundant, learning and cultivating the Dao become easier: Heaven is pleased, and demonic obstructions naturally dissipate.
Speaking of the Secret of Seizing the Opportune Moment:
57
The Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—draw upon one another, each in its proper time. The Dao, Virtue, spirit, and immortals all conceal this mystery. When the transformations of the myriad things settle, all thoughts quiet as well. Once the whole body and its many parts are properly regulated, one can verify the Dao of Wuwei (non-action).
Heaven and Earth, human beings, and the myriad things all “steal” vitality from one another. Heaven and Earth reveal their transformations through the growth of the myriad things, while the myriad things draw nourishment from Heaven and Earth and flourish. Seeing the myriad things, people often become greedy, and the things in turn consume people’s spirit. The myriad things, cultivated by people, bear fruit; people then use that fruit to meet their needs. Heaven and Earth, the myriad things, and human beings therefore depend on one another and also deplete one another.
Those who are skilled at recognizing the right moment can draw upon the workings of Yin-Yang transformation at the proper time. Since ancient times, the secrets passed down by the immortals have often been hidden from view. They seize the moment and set Yin-Yang change in motion, transforming the tendencies toward growth and decline, adjusting the movement of Qi, dispelling disordered Qi and strengthening the vital Qi. In this way, the myriad things become settled, distracting thoughts subside, body and mind come into harmony, and one ultimately realizes the Dao of natural Wuwei (non-action).
This poem emphasizes the words “at the right time”: only when the moment is right can one draw upon the Qi of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things. If the moment is missed, one’s own Qi may instead be drained away by them. The word “time,” then, carries a subtle meaning.
The precious text of the Yinfu (Scripture of the Hidden Tally) contains more than three hundred characters, while the wondrous words of the Daode Jing number more than five thousand. Though there have been many high immortals throughout the ages, all have gained insight here and come to understand the true essentials of the Dao.
The Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing are foundational scriptures for cultivation and the pursuit of truth. They explain the key principles behind the transformations of Heaven and Earth, and the workings of Yin-Yang’s waxing and waning. Since ancient times, discerning practitioners have investigated the underlying reality in these two scriptures, grasped their true principles, and come to understand the Dao of nature and life. For example, the Wuzhen Pian, written by the immortal Zhang Boduan, was also based on the Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing. Scholars who truly understand the Wuzhen Pian can also comprehend the meaning of these two scriptures.
On Seeking a Teacher
59:
Even if you are more intelligent than Yan Hui or Min Ziqian, do not force yourself to guess if you have not met a true teacher. The cultivation of the Golden Elixir has oral instructions that are not passed on lightly. Without them, how would you know where to begin in forming the numinous embryo—the embryonic form spoken of in Neidan cultivation?
Earlier, we said that the Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing are precious scriptures that scholars should study deeply. Yet the text also cautions that the cultivation of the Golden Elixir depends on oral instructions; if you rely only on your own conjecture, you may not know how to form the numinous embryo.
The Yinfu Jing and Daode Jing mentioned earlier are both precious Daoist classics, and those who study the Dao should read them deeply. The author, however, worries that students may become fixated on alchemical texts—writings about Neidan (internal alchemy) practice—believe their own understanding is correct, and refuse to seek guidance from others. This poem therefore urges them to seek out a true teacher without delay.
Alchemical texts and Daoist writings explain medicinal substances and the firing process—the timing and stages of cultivation—in considerable detail, using many metaphors to help readers grasp the principles and understand the path of cultivation. Yet the learning of nature and life, concerning the cultivation of mind and life, is profound and subtle, and truth is not easily distinguished from falsehood. Even if you arrive at some understanding yourself, you must have a teacher confirm it. If you refuse to seek instruction and rely on your own cleverness to make forced guesses and private interpretations, will you not jeopardize your cultivation of nature and life? Hence the saying: “Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, do not force your own guesses if you have not met a true teacher.”
The key to cultivating nature and life lies in gathering and refining primordial Qi—the original, innate energy spoken of in cultivation. This Qi has no form: it cannot be seen or heard, nor grasped by hand. So how can it be cultivated and made to return? Alchemical texts repeatedly discuss this Qi, its cultivation, and its return, yet they cannot explain it concretely or fully convey its principles through words alone. Only through a true teacher’s oral instruction and heart-to-heart transmission can you recognize the medicinal substances, understand the firing process, and cultivate with resolve and without hindrance.
If you do not seek a teacher’s transmission of the oral formulas and rely only on the literal meaning of alchemical texts, you may glimpse a little of the way and proclaim that you understand it completely, then cultivate as you please. You will either fall into emptiness or become attached to outward forms. How, then, could you form the spirit embryo, the inner attainment of Neidan practice? Therefore, you must seek the teacher’s oral formulas without delay.
Quelling the restless mind: Calming mental activity and the workings of cleverness.
Poem Sixty
The mind-monkey, the restless and unsettled mind, has grown calm; the clever schemes within the mind have also ceased. Accumulate three thousand meritorious deeds, and you will accord with the Way of Heaven. Naturally, a cauldron and furnace—the metaphors of Neidan practice—will arise to refine the Dragon and Tiger, symbols of Yin and Yang Qi. Why remain preoccupied with household affairs or attached to children, wife, and home?
People who cultivate the Dao (the Way) fail to understand and realize the Great Dao because their minds and spirits are unsettled and the foundations of their practice are not firm enough. If they can take all their worries lightly, let go and let go again, until they reach Wuwei (non-action), and thereby make the heart-mind pure and still, their inner cultivation is complete. If they also accumulate De (Virtue/Power) through good deeds, restrain themselves for others’ benefit, and make things easier for people wherever they can; remain unswayed by wealth and status, keep their resolve amid poverty and low standing, and refuse to yield before displays of power; and practice steadily, living in accord with circumstances until their troubles fade away, then their outward merit is complete as well. When inner cultivation and outer merit are both complete, the three thousand accumulated deeds are fulfilled, and one’s virtue matches Heaven’s. One can then reach a state as enduring as Heaven itself. Only those of profound virtue can attain this.
The human heart cannot admit even a trace of dust or impurity. At the slightest stray thought, one’s nature and disposition fall out of harmony, the Dragon and Tiger lose control, and all manner of danger follows. Here, “Dragon and Tiger” is a metaphor in Neidan (internal alchemy) for Yin-Yang energies and other inner forces. If all scheming is dispelled and the mind becomes empty and clear, there is no need to seek a separate cauldron or vessel—the container that symbolizes the body and mind in alchemical practice. The pure heart itself is the vessel. Once this vessel is established, one makes no arbitrary distinctions in stillness or activity, but follows the natural order, unites nature and disposition, and fills oneself with harmonious Qi (vital energy). This is what it means to “cook the Dragon and Tiger”; no other method need be sought.
The substances and vessel required for Daoist cultivation are already within oneself. Those who understand this can attain the state of a sage through diligent practice, even if their natural abilities are ordinary. But people in the world cannot see through worldly affairs or recognize their true nature and life. They cling to wives and children, remain tangled in endless attachments, and exhaust their strength, until their vital energies are spent and their lives come to an end. How pitiful.
Before the Returned Elixir—the Neidan practice of restoring body and mind to their original state—is complete, one should hasten to cultivate it. Once it is complete, one must also know when to stop. If the heart remains unsatisfied and one insists on grasping and craving perfection, sooner or later danger and disgrace will follow.
The Returned Elixir means restoring a person to the state of a newborn, returning to the innate knowledge and abilities one originally possessed, and bringing firmness and gentleness back into harmony and unity.
If the practice of returning the Elixir (a Neidan term for restoring the original nature of life) is not yet complete, you must hasten to cultivate it. Once it has been accomplished, you must also know when enough is enough. If your heart is set only on seeking perfection and refuses to stop, one day you will inevitably face danger and disgrace.
Here, returning the Elixir means restoring the original innate knowledge and abilities of human life, bringing firmness and yielding into harmony, and recovering a true spirit that is no longer obscured. As a person’s Yang Qi, having reached its peak, gradually gives rise to Yin Qi, the innate condition shifts into the acquired condition. Original innate knowledge and abilities then become deluded perception and capacity; firmness and yielding fall out of balance, and the true spirit is clouded, as though something that belonged to you had been lost outside yourself. “Returning” means bringing back what was yours from the beginning.
Cultivating the return of the Elixir requires careful attention to advancing and withdrawing, to slowness and urgency, and to the timing of the inner fire in cultivation. You must adapt flexibly to the moment and to the circumstances, without going too far or falling short. So, while the Elixir has not yet formed, you should cultivate with vigor, gradually gather and refine it, and seek its return as soon as possible. Once the Elixir has formed, restoring innate knowledge and abilities, harmony between firmness and yielding, and an unobscured true spirit, you must not continue to exert yourself excessively.
At this point, your cultivation has reached its goal and the medicinal Qi is abundant. Active practice comes to an end, and the nurturing of Wuwei (non-action) begins to emerge. You should promptly stop tending the fire and circulating Qi, and remove the fuel from beneath the furnace. Use gentle nurturing to guard against danger and preserve this trace of true spirit. Thereafter, let the natural true fire cook and refine on its own. Only when all Yin dregs have been transformed away and an indestructible substance like vajra has emerged can the work be considered complete and auspicious.
If the Elixir has formed but you do not know when to stop, continuing to crave fullness and add fire to refine it, Yang Qi will become excessive and fierce, and the medicine will dry up and decay. The true will depart and the false arise; what you have already gained will be lost. One day you will inevitably face danger and disgrace. Lü Chunyang, the legendary Daoist immortal, failed to form the Elixir three times, and Ziqing Weng, a Daoist cultivator, encountered wind and thunder in the middle of the night; both events arose for this reason. Refining with gentle fire and forging with fierce fire each have their proper time, as do Yang Fire and Yin Talisman, terms for the fire’s timing and its regulation in Neidan practice. The slightest error in cultivation can lead to a vastly different result. How, then, could those who cultivate De (Virtue/Power) fail to be cautious?
“Speaking of Life and Death,” two poems:
The “Gate of Life” and the “Door of Death” are originally one and the same opening: the “one aperture of the primal pass,” the crucial opening spoken of in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy). This opening contains the Qi of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). When it runs in the ordinary direction, the Five Phases harm one another and disperse; their five virtues then turn into the “Five Thieves,” forces that deplete life, and the Gate of Life becomes the Door of Death. Reverse this process, and the Five Phases generate one another and return to a single Qi. The Five Thieves then become the five virtues, and the Door of Death becomes the Door of Life.
The key to life and death lies in the difference between following the ordinary course and reversing it. If one can find life within the “impulse to kill”—which seems to bring harm—and learn to use it again and again, calamity can be turned into blessing, and the gates and doors of death can become gates and doors of life. In this way, even when facing the moment of death, one can seek to escape it. The saying “the number of the door is odd, the number of the gate is even” uses Yin-Yang numbers to explain that the Door of Death becoming the Door of Life symbolizes false Yang receding and true Yang arising, while the Gate of Death becoming the Gate of Life symbolizes false Yin receding and true Yin arising. Once true Yin and true Yang have emerged, they unite and return to their original state of perfect goodness, free of evil. The Principle of Heaven then flows as a whole, and life’s vitality never ceases, naturally bringing longevity.
Sixty-three
Calamity and blessing have always depended on one another and lain hidden within each other, like shadows and echoes that follow forms and sounds. If one can transform the workings of life and death, calamity can become blessing in an instant.
The way things in the world respond and change is this: when good fortune passes, misfortune arrives; when misfortune passes, good fortune arrives again. Misfortune and fortune depend on one another and transform into one another, like a shadow following a person or an echo trailing a sound. Those who cultivate the Dao understand that misfortune and fortune rely on each other, and can therefore understand how the mechanisms of their own life and death intertwine. If they can turn this mechanism of life and death and find a chance to live amid danger and ruin, then disaster can be turned into good fortune, seemingly with the flip of a hand and without effort.
The “mechanism of life and death” spoken of here refers to the movements and transformations of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) within the human body. When the Qi of the Five Phases follows its usual course, the potential for punishment and death is contained within virtue, becoming a “killing mechanism” that brings a person to decline and perish. When it runs in reverse, virtue can emerge from punishment and death, becoming a “life-giving mechanism” that allows a person to endure. With the life-giving mechanism, one can survive; with the killing mechanism, one will perish. A scripture says: “When the Five Phases proceed in their usual course, the realm of existence is like a pit of fire; when the Five Phases are reversed, the earth is adorned like the Seven Treasures.” Whether one lives or dies depends on whether they proceed as usual or are turned back. The power of the word “turn” is immense, but this cannot be done without aligning with the virtue of Heaven and Earth and the radiance of the sun and moon. Nor can it be done without aligning with the order of the four seasons and with the fortunes and misfortunes governed by spirits and deities. One must also be able to look down upon all things, remain unattached to them, and take the Dao as one’s responsibility in order to turn this mechanism of life and death. Ah, understanding the principle is not difficult; putting it into practice is truly hard. How easy can it be to turn the mechanism of life and death?
On Blending with the World and Concealing One’s Radiance
Those who cultivate the Dao live amid the secular world, yet must also temper their sharpness and live in harmony with others, being round where circumstances call for roundness and square where they call for squareness. Whether they reveal themselves or remain hidden, go along or move against the current, they are difficult to fathom. How, then, could others see clearly how they act or how deep their understanding goes?
The Great Way of the Golden Elixir, the fundamental path of Neidan cultivation, is open and upright. It should be practiced amid the world, while engaging in the affairs of marketplaces and the imperial court. It is not a lesser path of withdrawing from society, living alone, and seeking only quietude. Practitioners should blend with the common world and harmonize with its light without showing their sharpness. They should respond flexibly to worldly affairs, knowing when to appear or withdraw, when to follow the current or go against it, when to serve in office or retreat into seclusion, and when to reveal what is real or conceal what is empty. To remain unreadable to others in this way is what it means to accomplish great things and master the great pivot.
Those who deliberately seek secrecy and behave strangely may sit in meditation halls, contemplate emptiness to still the mind, circulate Qi and form mental images, move Jing and manipulate the marrow, or pursue lesser paths such as furnace alchemy and bedchamber alchemy. How could such practices be carried out in full view of everyone? If they can only be done where no one can see, they may be corrupting one’s character rather than truly cultivating the Way. How, then, could they comprehend the Way of nature and life?
In ancient times, when Bodhidharma saw that the Eastern Land of China held the promise of the Mahayana, he came to China to accomplish a great undertaking. After Huineng received the transmission from the Fifth Patriarch, he lived among hunters in Sihui and eventually realized the true fruit. After Zixian received the lineage from Xinglin, he went to a thriving city and relied on people of influence to cultivate the Way of nature and life. These three sages could all blend into the common world without showing their sharpness, cultivating the Dao through worldly means; thus they were able to become immortals and Buddhas. Apart from worldly methods, there is no method of the Dao. Without a method of the Dao, by what means can one cultivate, return to the root and restore the origin, and preserve one’s life and body? Alas, the celestial secret of blending with the common world and harmonizing with its light can be shared only with those who understand; it is difficult to explain to those who do not.
Direct Indications of Awakening to Reality, Scroll Three: One Five-Character, Four-Line Poem (used to symbolize the Great Unity concealing the true Qi).
The woman wears green, while the young lord is draped in a white sash. When they can be seen, they cannot be put to use; when they are truly put to use, they cannot be seen. They meet amid a hazy indistinctness and transform in a profound darkness. In an instant, flames leap up, and the perfected person appears.
“Woman” and “young lord” are alchemical symbols, not references to an actual man and woman. The “woman” refers to numinous awareness, a subtle and wondrous capacity to know. She is Yin within Yang and has a gentle nature. Because she governs birth, corresponds to Wood, and Wood’s color is green, she is said to wear green. The “young lord” refers to true awareness, genuine knowing. He is Yang within Yin and has a firm, vigorous nature. Because he governs killing, corresponds to Metal, and Metal’s color is white, he is said to wear a white sash.
The commentary distinguishes between acquired and innate dispositions. The acquired disposition is governed by temperament and delusive thoughts and has form and appearance. Though visible, it cannot be used in alchemical cultivation. Innate nature and true feeling, by contrast, have no form or appearance. Though they are what alchemical cultivation uses, they cannot be seen. They meet and transform only amid hazy indistinctness and profound darkness: their Qi is present, but there is no form or substance that can be seen or touched.
As numinous awareness and true awareness unite through this meeting and transformation, the practitioner must gather and focus the spirit, placing it in the “furnace of Creation” and refining it through the proper fire phases. The “furnace of Creation” is a symbolic expression in Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to the process of refining innate Qi. In an instant, innate Qi comes from emptiness and condenses into form, and the perfected person appears in the dark chamber. Here, “perfected person” refers to the vitality that emerges when true Yin and true Yang unite—that is, the sacred embryo. It does not mean the “body outside the body” that appears after ten months of cultivation. The perfected person’s appearance in the poem means “Taiyi contains true Qi”; the phrase “within a single double-hour, the Elixir is complete” is a symbolic way of describing the rapid condensation of the restored Elixir.
“Xijiang Yue” consists of twelve poems, symbolizing the twelve months. The Immortal Elder said, “The West belongs to Metal; the river…” This poem symbolizes the Great One (Taiyi), a Daoist concept representing the source or supreme primordial Qi, concealing true Qi within itself.
Source text: Godners/DaoZang; Licence: Apache-2.0 · Report an error / feedback