《悟真篇阐幽》Vol. 3

What is described as husband and wife, male and female, is drawn from things outside the body as a metaphor, symbolizing substances such as cinnabar and mercury, silver and lead. In short, all these are symbols and analogies. As for the fundamental secrets of the true ingredients and the firing process, they are transmitted only once in countless eons. Without a true master’s direct instruction, there is no way to enter the path.

Some foolish people in the world act recklessly without a teacher’s lineage, straying into remote and deviant paths and making everything up themselves. They do not even know what the Five Phases, the Four Symbols, cinnabar and mercury, or silver and lead are. They have yet to recognize the basic nature of the ingredients used in alchemy, let alone master the firing process.

There are several levels among the side paths. The most crude mistake cinnabar and mercury, silver and lead, for techniques to turn stone into gold, and mistake husband and wife, male and female, for bedroom arts that involve gathering and controlling women. Those somewhat higher merely move and manipulate their own Jing and Qi. The highest among them do no more than observe the clear and pure nature of the mind, quietly keep watch within, and cultivate one thing on their own.

Ridiculously, these people blindly practice by themselves and refuse to admit their errors. Though unlearned, they think highly of themselves and presumptuously call themselves “great recluses” who have transcended the world. They have not yet become disciples, but are already eager to become teachers to others. Teachers, confused themselves, guide the confused; learners then carry on in error, producing a whole group of blind disciples. They slander the true path and denounce genuine masters, stopping at nothing. Unless someone with clear vision exposes them, they will sink into delusion lifetime after lifetime, harming both themselves and others. Their offense is truly grave. Having laid out the Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the fundamental method of Neidan cultivation—in such detail, the Patriarch deliberately and sternly condemns later blind teachers who fabricate doctrines and mislead their students. This truly comes from compassionate intent.

Within the male is the female; within true Yin, Yang essence is held. When these two forces, Yin and Yang, are harmonized, the medicine is complete. It can transform the hun-soul and bring the po-soul as well into the sacred realm.

Believe that if one obtains a single Golden Elixir within the Dao, a snake that swallows it can become a dragon, and a chicken that eats it can transform into a phoenix and ascend into the realm of pure Yang.

This chapter explains that once the Golden Elixir is complete, it can transform the hun and po souls, raising them beyond the ordinary into sagehood.

Believe that if one obtains a single Golden Elixir within the Dao, a snake that swallows it can become a dragon, and a chicken that eats it can transform into a phoenix and ascend into the realm of pure Yang.

This chapter explains how cultivating the Great Way of the Golden Elixir can transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred realm. The key to Golden Elixir cultivation lies in the two forces Kan and Li, so the scripture repeatedly explains their meaning.

The Li trigram, which symbolizes Fire, is originally the true Fire of the Sun. It contains Yin within Yang, is solid on the outside and empty within, and symbolizes the heart-mind. The Kan trigram, which symbolizes Water, is originally the true Water of the Great Yin. It contains Yang within Yin, is empty on the outside and solid within, and symbolizes the body. Wood arises from Fire and is called the Yang hun (soul); Metal arises from Water and is called the Yin po (spirit). Metal and Wood represent the union of Water and Fire, so the hun and po dwell within body and heart-mind.

The “heart-mind” here does not mean the physical heart, but the Original Jing (essence) gathered before birth. Nor does the “body” mean the physical form, a temporary combination of the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—but the Original Qi (vital energy) that moves before birth. When body and heart-mind unite in a mysterious way, they become the Original Shen (spirit). Once they fall into acquired physical form and temperament, however, the body is pulled along by external things, while thoughts are disturbed by the awareness of the senses. People then chase illusions and lose sight of what is real; the hun and po gradually separate, drifting through birth and death and sinking for ages in a sea of suffering.

Those who cultivate the Dao should use true intention as a medium to unite body and heart-mind until they become wholly one, attaining a state of stillness and immobility. Only then can the great medicine of the Golden Elixir be refined. At that moment, the Yang hun and Yin po are also both transformed and united as the Original Shen, reaching a state of supreme numinosity and sanctity.

Once this true seed is obtained, the ordinary, embodied self can in an instant be transformed into one’s heavenly nature, and the mortal embryo can be transmuted into a sacred embryo. All life within oneself thereby transcends in the present moment, entering a state beyond birth and death, clear and enduring. The Golden Elixir is like a wondrous seed: a snake that swallows it becomes a divine dragon, and a chicken that eats it becomes a phoenix. Naturally, they ascend to the sacred realm of True Yang.

The sacred realm of True Yang is the Three Pure Ones’ realms of Jade Clarity, Highest Clarity, and Great Clarity, also known as the boundless and supreme palaces of the Great Luo Heaven. In essence, these three realms are not somewhere else; they are the state in which the Original Jing, Original Qi, and Original Shen unite as one. The snake becoming a dragon and the chicken becoming a phoenix both symbolize the transformation from the ordinary to the sacred. Do not speak lightly of these principles to those who do not understand them. Those who personally realize the wondrous Dao will understand for themselves.

One’s cultivation of virtue must exceed eight hundred merits, and one’s accumulation of hidden virtue must reach three thousand. The “Three Realms” do not refer to three separate states; they are the original Essence, Qi, and Spirit—the vital forces that Daoism regards as the foundation of human life—coming together as one. A snake seated upon a dragon, and a chicken transformed into a phoenix, both symbolize the transformation of an ordinary person into a sage. Do not explain these principles to those who do not understand them. Those who personally realize the wonder of the Dao will understand naturally.

When one’s cultivation of virtue is complete at eight hundred merits and one’s hidden merit has reached three thousand, one must regard all things, oneself, those close to oneself, and one’s enemies with equal impartiality. Only then does one fulfill the immortals’ original aspiration to aid the world and bring all beings to fulfillment.

Tigers and leopards, rhinoceroses and weapons cannot harm one; death and calamity cannot hold one back. Having obtained the precious talisman, one may go to pay homage in the heavens and ascend safely in a celestial carriage drawn by luan birds and phoenixes.

This chapter says that those who study the Dao should first cultivate their virtue, so that the Dao can truly take root within them. The Dao and De are like the body and its shadow; they cannot be separated. As Zisi said, “If one’s virtue has not reached the highest level, the supreme Dao cannot take root.” In the Book of Changes, the Qian and Kun hexagrams respectively symbolize the Dao and De. If a noble person lacks the deep virtue needed to bear all things, how could they be like a sage who harnesses the six dragons and governs the Way of Heaven?

The aspiration of someone who studies the Dao should first be broad: they should vow to save all sentient beings before attaining perfect awakening. The many good deeds performed in cultivation and the merits accumulated along the way are all driven by this aspiration. The Diamond Prajñā Sutra says, “This teaching is equal; there is no distinction between high and low.” People see only that Heaven and Earth are vast while living beings are small, but they do not know that Heaven, Earth, and I all come from the same source. How, then, can anyone be said to surpass me? All beings endowed with life and spiritual awareness are originally one with me. How, then, can anyone be said to be inferior to me? One who truly understands this no longer distinguishes between things and self, or between friend and foe, but regards all things equally. This is what accords with the fundamental vow of immortals to save sentient beings.

When cultivation and merit are complete, the Dao and De flourish together, and both body and spirit reach a mysterious state. Such a person is naturally unharmed by tigers, rhinoceroses, and other fierce beasts, and is untouched by weapons. When impermanence comes swiftly, they take the “Valley Spirit”—the Dao’s ceaseless, empty stillness, as described in the Dao De Jing—as the source of longevity. In the turbulent world, a house ablaze with suffering, they make inner stillness their dwelling. Being unborn and undying is the true precious talisman; remaining clear and still is the true Heaven. To leave behind the lesser-vehicle states symbolized by the sheep cart and deer cart is to board the dragon carriage and phoenix palanquin and reach a higher realm.

The Dao and De are inherently so exalted. Why seek some other precious talisman, an audience in Heaven, or a seat in a jade carriage drawn by phoenixes? Yet for people of the highest capacity, it is enough simply to say, “The Dao and De are exalted”; those of middling or lesser capacity often find this hard to believe. The patriarch feared that students of the Dao might fall into the view of annihilation—the belief that everything ultimately comes to nothing—so he made use, for the time being, of images such as precious talismans and splendid carriages to explain the teaching.

The Elixir is the most precious thing within the body. Once refined, it can produce endless transformations. One must then investigate the true principle through one’s original nature and fully awaken to the wondrous function of unbornness.

There is no need to wait for a future life or another age: in this very life, right before one’s eyes, one can attain spiritual powers like those of a Buddha. Since the Dragon Girl achieved realization through this practice, who has since been able to follow in her footsteps?

This chapter concerns the dual cultivation of nature and life and the realization of the fruit in a single lifetime. It brings the Wuzhen Pian to its conclusion. The inner and outer medicines mentioned at the beginning describe the work of cultivation in the two aspects of nature and life. Here, that work is gathered back into its source, directly pointing people toward seeing their original nature and thereby bringing the cultivation of life to completion.

The key to cultivating life lies in realizing the fruit, and the Golden Elixir is its foundation. The great medicine of the Golden Elixir arises from nothingness: it gathers the Five Phases and Four Symbols, brings the Three Families together and harmonizes the Two Things, ultimately returning them to a single Qi. Once this single Qi is attained, it can be held for a long time, firm and indestructible. Through repeated cultivation, until the nine transformations are complete, one can ascend to Heaven and descend to Earth, pass from darkness into light, and accomplish anything. Is the Way of the Golden Elixir not precisely the body’s most precious treasure, able to produce endless transformations once refined? This is what Guanyinzi meant by “perceiving the spirit and essence, and thereby living long.”

Yet even if one can undergo a thousand transformations and life continues to generate and transform without end, there is still no final release from the pursuit of “long life.” One must go further from here, see one’s original nature clearly, and awaken at once to unbornness. Only then does one understand that mountains, rivers, and the earth everywhere reveal the Dharma Body—the whole form in which Buddha-nature appears—and that, from ancient times to the present, everything remains within the single breath of this moment. What precious treasure would there then be to cling to, or what transformation to boast of? This is complete awakening to the school of nature and realization of the wondrous function of unbornness. It is what Guanyinzi meant by “forgetting the spirit and essence, and transcending birth.”

Those who cultivate immortality in the Lesser Vehicle have not suddenly seen the original nature of Vairocana, the Buddha whose Dharma Body pervades all places. They may pass through many kalpas and still find it difficult to reach the state of Buddhahood. Better are beings who awaken the great aspiration and directly realize unbornness. Once they are fully awakened, all things become clear; the Three Bodies—the Dharma Body, Reward Body, and Emanation Body—are complete, and the Six Supernatural Powers of Buddhism shine forth in full. In this way, one can complete in a single lifetime the fruit that would otherwise take vast kalpas to attain, and walk hand in hand with the Buddhas here and now. Why wait for a future life or another age?

The “beings of great resolve” mentioned in the text are the butcher in the Nirvana Sutra, Sudhana in the Avatamsaka Sutra, and the Dragon Girl in the Lotus Sutra. The butcher put down his butcher’s knife and immediately attained the Bodhi of the Auspicious Aeon. Sudhana visited spiritual friends far and wide and eventually entered the tower of Maitreya Bodhisattva. All of them are called people of superior capacity.

The Dragon Girl offered her precious jewel to the Buddha and, in an instant, transformed from a female body into a male one. She went to the Stainless World in the south, sat upon a lotus, and attained perfect, complete awakening. Is this not “attaining the Buddha’s spiritual powers in the present moment”? Could there be no one to appear later and follow in their footsteps? At the end of the passage, the patriarch gives an especially earnest injunction, as if such a person will appear very soon.

In his Collected Commentaries on the Avatamsaka Sutra, Li Changzhe holds that the story of the Dragon Girl’s Buddhahood uses events to convey principle. Here, the story serves as a metaphor for Golden Elixir cultivation, with its symbols and images said to correspond exactly to the methods of the Golden Elixir. The great sea symbolizes the Kan position; the girl symbolizes pure Yin; and the Dragon Girl symbolizes Yang within Yin. Her age of eight symbolizes the number “two times eight.” The jewel worth three thousand great thousand worlds symbolizes gold within water—that is, the priceless treasure within the human body. Offering the jewel to the Buddha symbolizes returning it to Qian.

The Dragon Girl’s transformation from a female body into a male one symbolizes Li transforming into Qian and embodies inexhaustible change. The south is the Li position in the Later Heaven Bagua, and it also corresponds to the Qian position in the Earlier Heaven Bagua. Once the jewel is offered, gold returns to its original nature and all Yin impurities are shed. Continued refining and cultivation can bring forth the body’s precious treasure; complete awakening can reveal the wondrous workings of the unborn.

From this point on, the postcelestial Li trigram, which symbolizes Yang within Yin, transforms once more into the precelestial Qian trigram, symbolizing pure Yang. Qian’s essence is firm, strong, upright, centered, and wholly pure. Its function is to set each thing right in its nature and life, and to let it change in response to the proper moment. This is called a world in which Yin and Yang no longer join and transform; through this, equality and perfect awakening are realized.

The Lotus Sutra uses the story of the Dragon Girl to reveal the subtle teaching of the One Vehicle, Buddhism’s sole path that leads directly to Buddhahood. The Awakening to Reality, by contrast, deliberately invokes the figure of the Dragon Girl to explain the subtle principles of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir. Is the subtle principle of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir not itself the wondrous teaching of the One Vehicle?

This chapter brings together the cultivation of both nature and life, responding to the inner and outer medicines discussed in the opening chapter. It is not merely the conclusion of the twelve chapters, but a summation of the entire Awakening to Reality. It is not merely the key to the Awakening to Reality, but the key to the ten thousand volumes of elixir scriptures. Further still, it encompasses the subtle meanings of the River Diagram and the Luo Writing, the Zhouyi, the Cantong qi, the Daodejing, the Yinfu jing, the Three Caverns’ true scriptures, the Buddhist Tripitaka, and the eighteen hundred Chan koans.

Five Quatrains

Five Quatrains (using the Five Phases as symbols)

Even if you have already awakened to your true nature, you may still, after leaving this body, enter another body.

Why, then, cultivate the Great Medicine as well? So you can transcend birth and death in an instant, bring the outflows to an end, and become a perfected person.

This chapter teaches that cultivating nature must go hand in hand with cultivating life. Everyone is innately endowed with their true nature, which is pure and real. This nature needs no cultivation or realization in itself; it is only temporarily obscured in ordinary people by the Five Aggregates—form, feeling, perception, mental formations, and consciousness. If we can turn our deluded mind around in a single thought, we can return to our original state and awaken in that very moment.

Yet the principle can be understood all at once, while actual cultivation must be completed gradually. Even within a person’s own body and mind, the six faculties—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—retain habits formed since beginningless time. They require continual training and refinement, practical effort applied to oneself, and verification through practice. After realizing their nature, patriarchs of every generation still devoted themselves to cultivation and quietly confirmed their realization, bringing body and mind into unity. Only when habits and lapses had been completely eliminated could they attain the fruit of realization in a single lifetime. The phrase “attaining the Buddha’s spiritual powers here and now” refers to this state.

If someone abandons the body and pursues only mind and nature, hoping for quick results, then, when reviewing their own practice, even a trace of unpurified habit may lead them to relinquish the body and take birth again, entering another body. Buddhist scriptures say that even an arhat can suffer the “delusion between lives”—the confusion that causes one to forget the realization of a previous life after rebirth. Guishan was born as a king in three successive lives and nearly forgot his original nature. Yunmen, too, was born as a king in three successive lives and consequently lost his spiritual powers. How could such cases fail to make us vigilant?

The most direct path to cultivation and realization is the great medicine of the Golden Elixir, a Daoist method centered on inner refinement. The subtle power of the Golden Elixir lies in refining “gold” with “fire.” If we can use the intensity of our practice in everyday life as fire to temper the true gold we already possess, then we can keep refining ourselves wherever the six faculties meet the external world. We remove the habits accumulated since beginningless time until every impurity is gone and our true nature shines forth, revealing the countenance of the “real person without rank,” the authentic self unconstrained by external identities.

When cultivation and realization are complete, they accord with the original nature that requires neither cultivation nor realization. From within the formless and imageless, the true form appears; from the Dharma Body, the Reward Body is brought to completion through the merit of practice. This is called completing the work through nine cycles, with form and spirit both wondrously perfected. One transcends all conditioned karma—the karma that still leads to the cycle of birth and death—and is forever free from the danger of relinquishing the body and being reborn, becoming a fully awakened true person.

The patriarch’s words are a corrective aimed at those who cultivate only one side. The “awakening” discussed in this passage refers only to the kind of sudden awakening later described by the Chan school. The Buddhas and patriarchs of every generation, however, thoroughly investigated principle, exhausted the depths of their nature, and cultivated both nature and life in order to realize the wondrous fruit beyond leakage. Their paths cannot all be treated as the same.

Rebirth, body snatching, and relocating, along with preserving the body for a long life in the world, are all minor attainments cultivated by what are called the “Four Fruition Practitioners.”

If one knows how to subdue the Dragon and tame the Tiger, and has forged a dwelling as solid as refined gold, how could it ever decay?

This chapter explains that minor attainments cannot serve as final proof of the Way. Since ancient times, only the Golden Elixir has made it possible to transcend life and death. Yet the Great Dao is difficult to encounter and hear, while minor attainments are easy to achieve. Since people differ in their natural capacities, many abandon the Great Dao and choose minor attainments. They often cling to one method, and, having gained a little, consider themselves satisfied.

When their allotted time is near, if their practice is not yet complete, they fear leaving their old body and entering a new one. They then resort to various methods. Some practice techniques for returning to emptiness, hoping to use them to be reborn; some seize the bodies of the dead to take birth in them; some, worried that the body they inhabit is not secure, repeatedly move to another; and others resolve to preserve their form and remain in the world for a long time, withdrawing to remote mountain valleys. These are collectively called the “Four Fruition Practitioners.” Because they do not know the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir, they fall into minor attainments.

The essential secret of the Golden Elixir lies in one Dragon and one Tiger. The Dragon and Tiger symbolize body and mind; to subdue body and mind is to subdue the Dragon and tame the Tiger. When the body of true emptiness and the mind of wondrous being merge as one, with no separation between them, form and spirit naturally attain a wondrous state. This is true gold that will not decay for ten thousand years, and the fundamental dwelling in which everyone can establish their life and destiny. Once a dwelling has been built from true gold, how could it ever wither and decay? From then on, whether walking, pacing, sitting, or lying down, one can remain settled there for a long time. Even if the sea turns into farmland, one remains undisturbed. Why worry that the dwelling will be damaged and one will have to move? Why study methods limited to minor attainments?

As for the “Method of Contemplating the Form, Closing the Breath, and Meditating on the Spirit”—a practice of observing the body, holding the breath, and visualizing the spirits—it seems difficult at first, but becomes smooth with practice. Even if one can roam through ten thousand lands in an instant, what use is that if the dwelling is falling apart and one still cannot avoid moving?

This chapter explains that the various minor methods of heterodox practice cannot endure. A house built of real gold will not decay; from this we can see that anything not made of real gold is unlikely to last. Yet each of these minor methods seems to produce some effective results, and people are often drawn to them for that reason.

“Contemplating the form” means casting a large mirror and looking at one’s body in it often. Over time, the practitioner may forget that they are outside the mirror and feel as though they have entered it. Some also say that sitting quietly with eyes closed and imagining one’s own body in the mind counts as contemplating the form.

“Restraining the breath” means holding one’s breath, gradually increasing from one or two repetitions to many. They consider the practice effective when a feather placed at the nostrils does not move at all during breathing.

“Contemplating the spirits” means silently worshipping the Lord of Heaven or imagining Kunlun, a sacred realm in Daoist thought. After a long time, one may feel that divine beings have appeared.

These three methods respectively fixate on the body, focus on the breath, and concentrate on spirits. All are remnants of postnatal existence, and they differ greatly from the supremely simple and easy method of the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir, which aims to refine and nurture Jing, Qi, and Shen and cultivate the Golden Elixir. These minor methods are difficult for beginners. Even after a long period of dedicated practice, one may enter meditative absorption and project the Yin spirit—a Daoist Neidan term for the consciousness leaving the body in a state of meditation—then, in an instant, travel throughout the nine provinces and the myriad lands, feeling thoroughly satisfied. Yet the dwelling on which the body depends is hard to make secure, and body and consciousness can easily separate. Would this not be like moving house after the building has fallen into ruin? Those who reach this state still cannot escape impermanence and the end of their lifespan. Therefore, students of the Dao should strive to seek the great medicine of the Golden Elixir and not confine themselves to these minor methods.

Buddhism teaches people to practice so they may be reborn in the Western Paradise because that realm belongs to the “Metal direction,” the west, which corresponds to Metal among the Five Phases.

Generally speaking, among visible forms, only those associated with the Metal direction are real; the other two directions are not real, and there is no need to weigh them further.

This passage points directly to the “Western Pure Land of one’s own nature,” a metaphor for the pure land within one’s innate true nature. It helps practitioners understand where they should ultimately return.

Buddhism has the Pure Land path, which urges people to recite the Buddha’s name until their minds become single-focused and undisturbed by stray thoughts. At the end of life, the Buddha comes to guide them to rebirth in the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss. The relevant teachings can be found in scriptures such as the Amitabha Sutra. Yet people often cling only to the external image of the “West” and rarely investigate its root. They do not realize that this, too, was a skillful teaching established by the ancient Buddhas to meet the needs of sentient beings at a particular time. If one clings only to the image and loses sight of one’s own nature, it becomes an obstacle.

According to Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), the East belongs to Wood and is where the myriad things sprout and grow; the West belongs to Metal and is where they gather and return to their hidden roots. In the trigrams of the Classic of Changes, the Qian trigram in the Later Heaven Bagua (Eight Trigrams) is located in the northwest, the Metal direction. The sovereign of the Zhen trigram, which symbolizes the East, returns to the root and restores its mandate here. When Li Zhangzhe says, “The Buddha is the virtue of utmost Yang,” he means precisely this.

From ancient times to the present, this one Qian Metal—Metal symbolizing pure Yang essence and vital energy—has remained pure and undivided. It is the true nature innate in everyone. This Metal nature is firm and strong; it cannot be destroyed even after ten thousand kalpas. It is pure white and unstained, untouched by anything. Neither stained nor destroyed, it can endure freely. Could this not be the Land of Ultimate Bliss?

The Vimalakirti Sutra says, “When one’s own mind is pure, the Buddha land is pure.” The Platform Sutra says, “So long as the mind is pure, that is one’s own nature.” This is what is meant here by the West.

This Metal nature is neither an eternal, unchanging substance nor utter annihilation and nothingness. It has no fixed color or form, yet it can manifest the Buddha’s sixteen-foot golden body and thirty-two marks of perfection. The formless and colorless is the Dharma Body, the Buddha’s fundamental body; that which has no marks yet is real is true reality. Wondrous existence and true emptiness are complete together, and the Western Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss is right before us. As the scripture says, there is only one true teaching; the other two are not ultimately true.

If one is still speculating about how far away the West is, whether the Land of Ultimate Bliss exists, how to choose between defilement and purity, or whether rebirth means going or coming, one is like a man who marked a boat to find a sword: the essential point has already been missed. From this we can see that the utmost true Dao of the East and the ancient Buddhas of the West are no different, and that the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir and the highest attainment of the Golden Immortal are connected as well. This is the “Dharma Gate of Nonduality” taught in the Vimalakirti Sutra. The patriarch was concerned that students might form two opposing views, so he emphasized this point in particular.

The principles of the highest Dao are present in ordinary speech; one should reflect carefully and seek them there. If one can turn inward and transform things amid daily life, even the finest grains of dust in the world can become treasures.

This chapter says that the highest Dao is never far from the words people use around them. It asks students to discern the meaning that is hard to put into words within ordinary speech. By this point in writing the Wuzhen pian, the Patriarch was nearly ready to set down his brush. He feared that people would treat the book’s words merely as abstruse doctrines and thereby betray his painstaking efforts. So he deliberately repeats the reminder: do not imagine that the highest Dao lies beyond common sayings, in some separate realm of mysterious language and subtle meanings. The highest Dao is present in everyday talk in the streets and lanes; people simply have not yet sought it carefully.

What is the highest Dao? At the beginning, the One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, and Three gives birth to the myriad things. All things arise through the course of change. This is a principle in which ordinary people live every day without realizing it. The “Five Phases moving in their ordinary sequence”—that is, the Five Phases following their usual order—turn the whole world into something like a pit of fire, and the power that generates life becomes a power of destruction. If one can gather the myriad things back into Three, gather Three back into Two, and then gather Two back into One, the myriad things can be reversed and transformed. This is the state in which sages cleanse their thoughts, withdraw, and turn inward. The “reversal of the Five Phases” can turn the earth into the Seven Treasures, transforming the power of destruction back into the power of generation. The forces of life and death are not, at their root, two entirely separate things; whether they can be transformed depends on the practitioner.

Thus it is said: “One can seek the Dao amid the many reversals of daily life; even the dust and sand on earth can become treasures.” Here, “earth” is a metaphor for the world and also refers to one’s own self; “dust and sand” represent all beings and also the mind. If practitioners can suddenly change their thoughts amid daily eating, resting, and the tangled details of ordinary affairs, gathering themselves inward until body and mind become one, then right awakening can appear throughout the world and among all beings, in sentient and insentient things, from above to below, and from ancient times to the present. How, then, could the earth’s dust and sand not all become treasures? There would no longer be boundaries separating sages from ordinary people, purity from defilement, or sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas.

The secret of reversing the Five Phases lies within common sayings and everyday speech. The entire Wuzhen pian is written in ordinary language, as are the myriad volumes of Elixir scriptures that discuss Neidan cultivation. The Buddhist Tripitaka and twelve divisions, the Confucian Six Classics, and the writings of the various schools of thought likewise never depart from everyday speech. If one clings to the words and phrases, hoping to find the highest Dao directly in them, one will not find it; if one leaves these words behind and seeks the highest Dao elsewhere, one will not find it either. What, then, should one do? The key is whether one can understand and apply them flexibly, and that depends on the practitioner.

The main theme of this volume largely illuminates the preceding two volumes and adds what they left unexplained. Its purpose is to guide practitioners to advance further on the foundation they have already established. Those who have grasped its essential points can then join Master Wuzhen—Zhang Boduan, author of Wuzhen pian—in exploring the matter more deeply.