《梅华问答》

Questions and Answers on Plum Blossoms

Recorded by Xue Yanggui of Wu; sponsored by Xie Laiyi of Shanghai.

In the autumn of the Xinsi year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, two guests, Tao Jiruo and Han Dongran, joined the monk Huiche, the Daoist Xu Donglei, five or six grown men, and six or seven boys at the Bamboo Shadows and Plum Blossoms Pavilion to admire the osmanthus. Plane-tree leaves beat against the windows, and the scent of osmanthus drifted through the curtains. Some played the zither and gave voice to their feelings in long, carefree calls; others composed poems beside the water. They burned incense, brewed tea, sat quietly, and spoke heart to heart. The hall was filled with harmony and peace.

Tao Jiruo sighed, “Anyone can become like Yao or Shun, so long as they set their minds to it; with resolve, the task will eventually be accomplished. There is truth in this. Yet those who cultivate the Dao are as numerous as hairs on an ox, while those who truly attain the Dao are as rare as phoenix feathers. This is probably because they have not found the way to begin. There is no need to speak of deviant paths and heterodox teachings. How, then, should one cultivate the Orthodox Way?”

Han Dongran replied, “From ancient times to the present, the Dao has been one, and the minds of sages and ordinary people are no different. Though there are the three teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, their actual practice is fundamentally the same. The so-called ‘Dao’ is the true principle by which Heaven and Earth naturally operate. It gives life to the myriad things and is also manifest in all that exists in the world.

“People often abandon what is near and seek what is far away. They either regard the Dao as something profound and mysterious, or dismiss it as no more than stale, commonplace words. Even the one or two who sincerely seek the Dao may stray into eccentricity and error if they do not receive authentic instruction. And even if they are fortunate enough to meet a renowned teacher, how can they expect to accomplish anything if they remain entangled in desire, procrastinate, and grow lax?

“Let us set others aside for now and each examine ourselves. Can we press forward in cultivation with courage and resolve until we become one with the Dao? Yan Hui once said, ‘What sort of person was Shun? What sort of person am I? If I make the effort, I too can be like him.’ If you can truly make up your minds and leave yourselves no way to turn back, cultivate diligently for three years and see what comes of it.

“As for the fundamental aim of cultivation, its basic principles can be conveyed in words. To reach a higher realm, however, one must realize it inwardly.”

In my view, the first step in study and cultivation must be to investigate things and principles. What the Great Learning says about “investigating things and extending knowledge,” and what the Confucians of earlier times called “exhausting principle and maintaining reverence,” are indeed the keys to entering the Way.

The verse of praise says: Bamboo shadows sway; plum blossoms are pure and elegant; Yuyi, the Daoist deity of the midday sun, shines bright and clear. The essential instruction left by the sages is to investigate principles thoroughly and devote oneself to reverence and care.

The truth of the Great Dao is the standard for cultivation and study. One should discipline oneself and bring one’s words and actions into accord with ritual and law, taking the teachings of Confucius and Mencius as one’s guide. Someone asked, “When facing all kinds of situations, we can distinguish among them by applying principle. But what should we do in cultivating the mind? What method should serve as the foundation that gathers everything together? To study without a center is like trying to cross a river without a boat or oars. We must first understand the foundation of learning before we can truly pursue it.”

Dongran replied, “Inner cultivation and outward conduct follow the same principle. The ancients said, ‘Keep the mind settled within the body, and do not let your thoughts stray from the gate of total integration.’ The gate of total integration is the fundamental method that gathers the mind’s thoughts in cultivation. Students must first understand their own original mind in order to find the center of their learning. Once they understand this foundation, they will also possess the method that gathers everything together. Thus, the books of principle learning do no more than illuminate ‘mind’ and ‘nature’; this is the gateway to moral cultivation. The Great Learning begins by saying, ‘Manifesting illustrious virtue’: bringing forth the bright virtue inherent in oneself gives learning its foundation.”

The verse of praise says: “‘Manifesting illustrious virtue’ is the standard for learning. Virtue is already within oneself; one should strive to make it shine forth.”

One must be diligent and tireless throughout the day to reach the highest state. If one can understand fully, there is nothing more to seek, and what one has attained can be preserved for a long time. Someone asked, “As for the words ‘illustrious virtue,’ Zhu Xi explained: ‘Illustrious virtue is what people receive from Heaven. It is empty, numinous, and never obscured, and through it they possess…’”

If a person devotes themselves to cultivation without slackening day after day, they can reach its utmost. When they come to understand that there is nothing more they need to understand, the insight they have gained can endure.

Someone asked, “As for the term ‘Illustrious De,’ Zhu Xi explained it this way: ‘Illustrious De is the clear, numinous, wondrous, and undeluded original mind that people receive from Heaven. It contains every principle and can respond to all things.’ Does this refer to the human mind or to human nature?”

Dongran replied, “Mind and nature cannot, in their original state, be separated. In its role as the governing faculty, it is called ‘mind’; as the principle of ceaseless generation contained within it, it is called ‘nature.’ Nature can be seen only when the mind manifests. One must first gain insight before speaking further about the mind, and nature is already present in it. By understanding the mind, one can see nature; by realizing nature, one can know the mind. Only by fully exercising the mind can one know one’s own nature. Yet one must first understand how to preserve the mind and cultivate nature—that is, to keep the original mind and nurture one’s nature. Only through long and sustained cultivation can one grasp the principle within; only through careful self-examination can one grasp its essentials. Learning by this path will, in general, keep one from going astray.”

Commendation: Preserve and nurture the original mind and nature, and study their principles deeply. Examine yourself constantly, restrain yourself, and correct your faults; then you can gradually forget the distinction between self and things, along with your attachments to emotion.

Within stillness and clarity, numinous awareness naturally comes forth. It is perfectly lucid, yet there is nothing to grasp; this is true sincerity.

Someone asked, “The Confucian Four Books and Six Classics, along with the sayings of Confucian scholars through the ages, all discuss the nature and principle. Buddhist scriptures also all discuss the school of nature. Why, then, does Daoism say that one must cultivate both nature and life? Lü Zu said, ‘Cultivating life without cultivating nature is the greatest failing in practice; cultivating nature alone without refining the elixir, even after countless kalpas, the yin spirit will find it difficult to become a sage.’ He also said, ‘Without life, nature cannot be established; without nature, life cannot exist.’ Clearly, nature and life cannot be separated. Why, then, does Buddhism discuss only the school of nature, while Confucianism speaks only of the nature and principle?”

Dongran replied, “Nature and life cannot be separated in the first place. The ‘nature’ spoken of in Buddhism refers to original true nature: the true source of nature and life, one’s original face before one was born of one’s parents. It is also the ‘true reality of the Non-Ultimate’ described in the Explanation of the Diagram of the Supreme Ultimate.

“By contrast, what people today call ‘nature’ is temperament, formed after birth through the Qi one receives. Wood has the nature of wood, metal the nature of metal, and water, fire, and earth each have their own nature. Human beings are the most spiritually endowed of all things, yet what they receive is still drawn from the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). This is precisely what Zhu Xi meant when he said, ‘Qi gives form.’

“The ‘yin spirit across countless kalpas’ in Lü Zu’s words refers to temperament: the spirit-consciousness formed through what one sees and hears and through acquired knowledge. When Confucians discuss nature and principle, they mean that principle is inherent in nature: it is present in all things and at all times, the fundamental force behind the growth and transformation of all things, and the principle that all things should follow. Principle is nature, and nature is principle. There is only one principle, while Qi has two modes, Yin and Yang. Qi divides into Yin and Yang, but principle remains constant. Once principle is understood, nature becomes apparent.”

The numinous clarity bestowed on human beings by Heaven descends into the human heart, giving each person the capacity for ceaseless life. It also gives rise to the virtues of strength and firmness, gentleness and compliance, and benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness—the Five Constant Virtues. This is called “nature.” Each person receives a different endowment from Heaven, yet each has a unique underlying principle. This is called “principle.” What is known as one’s “original true nature” comes from the truth of the Wuji (the source from which all things arise before they differentiate, as understood in Daoism). Thus, by probing the principles of Heaven and fully realizing one’s nature, one also fulfills the mandate of life. Cultivating the heart and nature is cultivating life itself. As the ancients said, “Cultivate one part of your nature, and you preserve one part of your life.” As for the methods of cultivating life, they are precisely the subtle teachings spoken of by the Daoists.

Appraisal: Human nature embodies the ethical principles that guide human relationships, while human life takes part in the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth. If cultivating nature is a way to cultivate life, why worry about the changes of life and death?

One should carefully guard oneself and need not pursue external power or techniques of control. One cannot predict one’s destiny, and human nature cannot be fabricated out of nothing.

Someone asked, “At birth, everyone receives Qi and thereby takes on a physical form. As the saying goes, ‘When Qi gathers, it forms a body.’ The nature present in the body is shaped by one’s physical endowment. How, then, can one discern the original, true nature? Moreover, before our parents gave birth to us, our original condition was merely this circle (○). Only when a person has no physical form is this the case. After birth, once we have received Qi and taken on form, how can we regain the nature represented by the circle? Surely that state can be restored only when the body perishes and returns to nothingness.”

Dongran replied, “At birth, people receive the Five Constant Virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness—but each has a different emphasis. Thus people differ in strength and weakness, firmness and gentleness, intelligence and dullness, and in whether they are worthy or unworthy. The natures of the Five Phases—Water, Fire, Wood, Metal, and Earth—are all contained within the true nature. The substance of the original true nature is pure and subtle, empty, luminous, tranquil, and settled. By contrast, the nature shaped by one’s physical endowment arises only after Qi gathers and forms the body.

After our parents give birth to us, the body does not obstruct the nature’s emptiness and luminosity. This is what is meant by ‘empty, numinous, and undimmed.’ The body is the body; the empty numinosity is the empty numinosity. It refers to the spirit’s numinous awareness in the heart-mind. It has no visible form or trace; one can only sense that within emptiness and stillness there is a numinous, luminous nature. The Book of Changes describes this state as ‘still and unmoving, yet responsive and thereby penetrating all things.’

As for the body, it certainly consists of concrete things. But the substance of empty numinosity was already so before our parents gave birth to us (○), and remains so after birth (○). The body, therefore, does not obstruct the nature’s empty numinosity.”

“Vital temperament” refers to the way Qi gathers to form the body. The Movement and Stillness says: “Whenever people respond to change, knowledge and deliberation are at work in everything they do. Once discriminating thought takes hold, the light of one’s essential nature is obscured, like a bright mirror covered in dust or a clear spring turned muddy. Following cleverness and then putting cleverness to use are both the work of the conscious spirit—the mind that discriminates and deliberates after birth. The true nature is thereby mixed with other things, and vital temperament takes shape.” This is what is meant by “the nature shaped by vital temperament.”

When the mind harbors no distracting thoughts and not even a single thought arises, essential nature is clear and still, its light ever-present. In stillness, one remains lucidly aware; in responding to external things, one remains rooted in stillness. Daoism calls this essential nature “Perfect Clarity,” Buddhism calls it “Perfect Awakening,” and Confucianism calls it “Illustrious Virtue,” also known as “the highest good.” When a person’s bodily form disappears, the flesh may die, but the mind does not; the body may perish, but the spirit does not. To “return to a state of nothingness” means that the bodily form dissolves.

As for the mind and nature, they are originally free of attachments. If the mind settles somewhere or clings to something, how can it return to its original state of empty clarity and stillness? “Cultivation” means maintaining awareness at every moment, whether sitting in meditation or going about one’s activities, so that the mind remains whole and clear, upright and tranquil. When this is achieved, one can accord with the Dao wherever one is and respond to circumstances with ease. Then one can return to one’s heavenly destiny and go back to the root.

Thus, original true nature has no fixed location, shape, or color, and neither comes nor goes, moves nor rests, is born nor dies. Emptiness is its substance, and numinous awareness its function. Heaven and earth, too, are simply images manifested by true nature.

People are clouded and confused because their minds are unclear. If they can make the mind clear and bright, they will see their original nature. When the mind is clear, the original nature is firm as well, and one can understand that it has no beginning and no end, no place from which it comes and nowhere to which it goes; it has always been so. Those who study must arrive at some understanding before they can put it into practice for themselves. If they merely search books for passages and quote lines aloud, I believe they will ultimately gain nothing real.

The eulogy says: Since there is neither coming nor going, where could birth and death be? Original nature is deep as an abyss, clear and eternally bright.

It is the root that has existed since before beginnings, and the purity of Great Clarity (the Daoist source of stillness and purity). It radiates boundless light and embodies Origin, Success, Advantage, and Perseverance—the four virtues described in the Book of Changes.

Someone asked, “Since original nature has both a temperament-shaped nature and an original nature, are there also distinctions within the mind? How can the mind be made clear?” Dongran replied, “The Book of Documents speaks of the ‘human mind’ and the ‘mind of the Dao.’ Master Yangming explained them as ‘mixed with human selfish desires’ and ‘free of human selfish desires,’ which is very clear. The mind spoken of here is not the lump of flesh inside the body, but the empty, numinous, perceptive mind, unobscured by anything. It governs the whole body; when the mind is settled, every part of the body follows its direction.

The human mind is exceptionally responsive and active. All good and evil deeds come from this mind; even becoming a sage, worthy, immortal, or Buddha is connected to it. An old saying goes: ‘Three dots arranged like stars, a hooked stroke like the crescent moon hanging at an angle. Put on animal fur and become a beast or bird—this comes from the mind; cultivate Buddhahood, too, through this mind.’ This speaks of how unfathomable the mind’s transformations are. When thoughts arise and vanish in a flash, turning suddenly from good to evil, and the mind is in turmoil from one moment to the next, such illusory, confused thoughts are the human mind.

Desire in the human heart is the root that causes people to fall into the cycle of rebirth. When desire arises or fades, if we can notice whether it is good or bad, judge right and wrong, and keep a proper balance between dealing with affairs and quiet reflection, we can distinguish what accords with moral principle from what seeks only private gain. What accords with moral principle is the principle of Heaven; what seeks only private gain is human desire. The principle of Heaven is also the Dao-heart—the original heart that accords with Heaven’s principle.

To preserve the principle of Heaven and remove human desire is what the sages meant by “overcoming oneself and returning to ritual propriety”: restraining oneself so that one’s words and actions accord with ritual. One must also keep the heart open, bright, and clear, untouched by stray thoughts and free of clinging attachments, while remaining steadily alert and observant. What must be eliminated is the heart’s deluded activity, not its capacity for clear discernment. Keep the mind continually lucid and settled, so that body and mind become clear and one’s resolve and vital energy shine as if aided by the spirits. This is what it means truly to practice the Dao. In this way, one can become a sage and also attain immortality or Buddhahood.

However, if one does not examine what is beneficial and what is right in concrete situations, or distinguish right from wrong, but pursues inner emptiness alone, one falls into the path of emptiness—a course rejected by both Daoists and Confucians. The scripture also says that the so-called “Heavenly Heart” is the heart of Heaven and Earth, and the foundation of both the human heart and the Dao-heart.

The heart is originally one. How could it be divided into a “Heavenly Heart,” a “human heart,” and a “Dao Heart”? The thoughts that arise in ordinary people are mostly selfish, seeking gain and the satisfaction of desire, so they are called the “human heart.” The thoughts that arise in the hearts of sages and exemplary people mostly accord with principle and moral duty, so they are called the “Dao Heart.”

If one can remain unattached to the “heart” within, and let thoughts arise without clinging to deliberate action, simply perceiving the natural flow of Heaven’s principle, then the inner heart is at once clear and still. It merges with the heart of Heaven and Earth, taking the heart of all things in Heaven and Earth as its own. This is called the “Heavenly Heart.” The Heavenly Heart cannot be seen in itself; it becomes visible through human conduct. When selfish desire no longer obscures a person, the heart is open, clear, and keen, without confusion. At any time and in any place, the thoughts that arise can then embody the heart of Heaven and Earth. Thus the Classic of Changes says, “The Return hexagram reveals the heart of Heaven and Earth.”

Those who cultivate the Dao should clear away every obstruction—sensory pleasures, wealth, fame, and profit—so that the heart within becomes open and pure, like a bright mirror. When “the yang returns” (the moment when, after Yin-Qi has gradually reached its utmost, Yang-Qi begins to emerge), the force of life stirs. The place where it stirs is where the Heavenly Heart appears. People manage the myriad things through a mind that acts deliberately, and so they undergo life and death. Heaven and Earth turn and transform without private intent, and so they endure. If people, too, can be free of selfishness and attachment, they can understand the principles of Heaven and Earth.

The accompanying verse says: Heaven and humanity form one family; Heaven and Earth stretch vast and boundless. The lotus in the pond seems like a wondrous flower beyond the heavens.

All things move and transform within “nonbeing,” which contains subtle principles, just as one must cut open a melon or fruit to see the patterns within. In the third watch of the night, beneath the moonlight, a few plum blossoms quietly open.

Someone asked, “If the study of human nature and heavenly principle is as you describe, what is the purpose of Buddhist seated meditation and investigating a kōan? In the past, Master Lianchi of Yunqi, a prominent Ming dynasty Pure Land monk, gathered many people into Lotus Societies and taught them specifically to recite the Buddha’s name. Why are these two forms of practice held in such regard?”

Huiyang replied, “Meditation is the calming of the mind and spirit; investigating a kōan means applying wisdom to examine it. Whether or not one undertakes spiritual practice, wisdom should come first and knowledge second. Knowledge is merely the discriminating, deliberating mind at work. Knowledge without wisdom is like the faint glow of a firefly: it cannot illuminate heaven and earth, nor can it accomplish great things. With wisdom, one can practice meditation and study the Dao. The meanings of the various scriptures become clear at a glance, and when facing events and all things, one can respond appropriately, arising naturally from one’s true nature and never departing from principle. This is what is called ‘having an eye of one’s own’—insight different from that of ordinary people.”

The “head phrase” is a gateway into the Way of cultivation for beginners. A Chan master may use a blow from a stick, a shout, a single sentence, or a pause to bring a student to immediate understanding and sudden awakening. This is called a “Chan trigger.” The word “trigger” refers to the source from which a thought or awareness arises. The purpose of a head phrase is to turn the student inward: quietly observe where thoughts come from, and through this verify one’s own mind-nature, using the phrase as a step on the path to the Dao. In this way, the great and open Dao can be understood without deliberation and entered into without force. This is a Chan method for bringing people to sudden awakening to their original nature.

For example, contemplating head phrases such as “Who is reciting the Buddha’s name?” or “Who is your original face?” teaches one to hold fast to the phrase and investigate it carefully: What, exactly, is being investigated? The sole aim is to clarify one’s original face and recognize one’s true nature. The student quietly investigates the phrase until there is nothing else to think about; thoughts then gradually subside, and even the act of thinking comes to a halt. At this point, no thoughts arise. The mind is clear and still, yet one may not even be aware of this clarity and stillness. When the inner true trigger stirs and awakening suddenly occurs, one recognizes in that very moment: What is it that is aware? Who is aware? Only through this recognition can one see that one’s original face before birth has always been just so. The “who” refers to one’s own true awareness. If one fully comprehends this Chan trigger, sudden awakening comes at once. This is called “breaking through the original barrier”: a breakthrough in investigating one’s original face. Only after breaking through the original barrier can one understand the essence of one’s nature; only then does cultivation have a clear point of entry.

As for sitting in meditation to investigate, it is simply a way to settle the mind. Once the mind is settled, wisdom naturally arises, and sudden awakening may follow. If one fully comprehends this Chan trigger, sudden awakening comes at once. This is called “breaking through the original barrier.” Only after breaking through the original barrier can one understand the essence of one’s nature; only then does cultivation have a clear point of entry.

As for those who investigate the Way through seated meditation, sitting quietly is simply a method for calming the mind. When the mind settles, wisdom naturally arises, and a person may suddenly awaken. After awakening, one can understand how things work and fully recognize one’s original true nature. This awakening and understanding depend on wisdom, so the practice cultivates both stillness and insight: the mind settles and gives rise to wisdom, while wisdom in turn helps the mind remain settled. With long practice, one naturally reaches deep stillness and great wisdom, and suddenly realizes non-arising, a state beyond the limits of birth and death. Practice always rests on this principle; it is the most important thing.

As for bringing a student to sudden awakening with a single blow or shout, the understanding may seem to come without reflection. Yet one must first work at seated meditation for a long time, until the practice is mature enough to reach deep stillness and quiet. How many people, past or present, can sustain a single thought as though it lasted ten thousand years?

Today, some people sit through scheduled meditation periods by sitting rigidly without moving. They take meditative concentration to be the whole of practice, cling to the word “stillness,” and hope to cut off their thoughts. This is like bowing before a lifeless dead tree. An old saying among practitioners goes, “Even after millions of eons, one will still fall into empty extinction.” For this reason, Chan Master Huairang of Nanyue once mocked Mazu Daoyi for doing nothing but sitting: it was like trying to polish a brick into a mirror.

The verse of praise says: First understand what “awakening” truly means; only then can it be called genuine awakening. When the mind holds not the slightest attachment, the place one dwells becomes profound and mysterious.

In this way, one guards the Great Simplicity—the original state of undivided purity. The Great Simplicity is not mere plainness as people ordinarily understand it. It contains a solemn and wondrous depth, like celestial music rising through the heavens.

Someone asked, “How, then, should we understand the principle of reciting the Buddha’s name? Do the six words ‘Namo Amitabha Buddha’ also hold a subtle meaning?” Huiche replied, “The practice of reciting the Buddha’s name embodies the compassion of the Buddha. It is a profound teaching that provides a special skillful means to embrace people of different capacities. Those of the highest capacity can be taught through the principles of human nature. Those of middling capacity can be guided to read and recite the scriptures, concentrate and reflect, investigate the words, and understand their meaning, gradually coming to insight through understanding. This is called the gradual method. The sudden method can liberate those of the highest capacity, but those of middling capacity or below have difficulty finding liberation through it. The gradual method is for liberating those of middling capacity. But how can we help people whose capacities are dull? That is why this skillful means was established. Many people, moreover, fear hardship and seek ease, so they are especially taught to recite the Buddha’s name. As long as they hold firmly to the Buddha’s name and keep their minds single and undisturbed, they will be reborn in the Western Land of Ultimate Bliss at the end of life.”

The mind is the hardest thing for a person to control. Now, by firmly holding to this one invocation of the Buddha’s name, one keeps only the thought of reciting the Buddha in the mind, leaving no opening for other distracting thoughts to enter. One can then naturally reach a state in which the spirit’s light shines clear and alone, and the true, wondrous mechanism becomes manifest. With time, even the single thought ceases to arise, and the numinous, luminous nature appears on its own. One is aware of neither self nor others, neither heaven and earth nor the myriad things, sun, moon, or mountains and rivers; one knows only awareness itself and no longer perceives a self. Only on reaching this state can one be said to be truly reciting the Buddha’s name. From this comes the Samadhi of Buddha Recitation—the state in which the mind is wholly focused during recitation and concentration and wisdom work together. The Buddha’s light will naturally shine upon one, making cultivation easier.

In the past, when Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) and Shi Tianji recited the Buddha’s name, they composed this verse:

“Reciting the Buddha’s name with devotion is itself a way of refining the Elixir. The 108 beads of the rosary turn in a steady cycle as the recitation continues. When recitation opens the heart’s aperture, spiritual insight becomes accessible; when it brings awakening to completion, one transcends the distinction between ordinary beings and sages. The mind does not drift away with thoughts like flowing water, and the spirit stays with the purity and ease of white clouds. When recitation bears fruit, one can transcend life and death. I leave this verse for you to contemplate.”

To understand these words and put them into practice is the true purpose of reciting the Buddha’s name.

If you keep reciting aloud while your mind remains unsettled, the Buddha’s name becomes mixed with distracting thoughts. The mind cannot grow clear, your thoughts remain scattered, and in the end your effort is fruitless. Even if you recite the Buddha’s name all day, it is as though you had not recited it at all. Recitation done this way is, in effect, no recitation; you might as well not recite.

This method does not discuss mind and nature, investigate spirit and Qi, or speak of cultivating nature and life. Yet it can naturally bring body and mind into unity, gather the luminous nature within, and deepen the cultivation of the spirit, swiftly reaching the Lotus Realm, or Pure Land. It is easy and straightforward: accumulate a little practice each day, and there is no need to worry that you will not succeed. The key is whether you can persevere. Practice steadily, with sincerity and focus, and you will naturally attain the samadhi of Buddha-recitation: a meditative state in which the mind rests on a single object and body and mind are clear and still.

“Buddha” means awakening. “Recitation” means holding something in the mind; it is not merely chanting with the mouth. The method of reciting the Buddha’s name is also called “cultivating the Pure Land.” Here, “land” refers to a place at the center: the central palace within a person, the inner position at the center of body and mind. All thoughts and deliberations arise from this central palace. Once a thought takes shape, the central palace is no longer clear. Thus, reciting the Buddha’s name means purifying the mind; the so-called Pure Land is the central palace made truly clear. When not even a trace of dust obscures the mind, great awakening will appear. At that point, the Buddha and I are one.

The meaning of the six syllables “Namo Amitabha” is also a way of expressing the wonder of the true nature inherent in each person—the real nature that is complete from the beginning.

In “Namo,” “Na” refers to the south, which corresponds to Fire among the Five Phases and to the heart in the human body. Since only spiritual awareness resides in the heart, it is said that “there is no Buddha in the south.” This means that the spiritual awareness in the heart is not itself the Buddha.

“A” means immeasurable; “mi” means spreading everywhere and filling all space; “ta” describes a wholeness that is undivided, radiant with light. It points to the nature of the true nature we possess from the beginning. This radiance is one’s own subtle, clear spiritual awareness. “Nian” means to keep something in mind without forgetting it. To be mindful of the Buddha is to see clearly that deluded thoughts are not the Buddha, nor are they one’s own spiritual awareness. True spiritual awareness is boundless and immeasurable, fills heaven and earth in all directions, is whole and undivided in form, shines with light, embraces the vastness of heaven and earth, and has a nature that merges with emptiness.

The Buddha is me, and I am the Buddha. This is so in life and in death. It is neither increased by birth nor diminished by death; it is neither brought along with birth nor carried away with death. Reaching a state beyond the constraints of birth and death, coming and going, is the highest attainment of cultivation. Thus the Heart Sutra says, “Neither arising nor ceasing, neither defiled nor pure, neither increasing nor decreasing.” What matters is only whether one awakens: the difference between delusion and realization. To sustain this great awakening at all times is the way the wise practice mindfulness of the Buddha. To cling only to reciting the Buddha’s name without realizing the fundamental Great Dao is the practice of the foolish; the two cannot be compared.

Seated meditation and Chan contemplation, the practice of quiet sitting and investigating Chan principles, belong to the sudden-teaching tradition. This method allows one to penetrate all principles through a single moment of complete awakening. Bodhidharma established it because later students in China did not understand mind and nature or grasp the essentials of Buddhism. They clung instead to words and doctrines, and so found complete awakening difficult to attain. This is why he established a path that does not rely on written words, enabling people to see their own nature directly. It was also a expedient adopted out of necessity.

An ancient master said, “If you practice Chan but not Pure Land, nine out of ten will go astray. If the shadowy realm—the dim world that appears at the moment of death—comes into view, it may draw you away. If you practice both Chan and Pure Land, you will be like a fierce tiger with horns: in this life you can be a teacher to others; in the next, you can become a Buddha.” If students practice as these words advise, need they still worry that they will fail to attain the Way?

Having listened, Donglei smiled and said, “What you have said may be called great awakening. But what, exactly, is enjoyed in the Land of Ultimate Bliss, the Western Pure Land spoken of in Buddhism? If one can reach the West without spending even the time it takes to snap one’s fingers, where is the West? Some say, ‘Rebirth does indeed take place, but when it comes to going there, there is actually nowhere to go.’ Can you add a truly penetrating word to this saying? What you have just spoken of concerns only this shore. Do you know about the other shore? What does ‘the other shore’ mean? You understand what lies beneath the monastic robe, but have yet to understand what lies beneath the skirts of women. Do you know the saying, ‘The red sun shines across the earth, yet no flowers bloom beneath the sea’?”

Huiche fell silent and stared at him.

Donglei continued, “Long ago, the monk of Piling had already awakened to the waterwheel, yet still said he lacked the skill to make a living. Why, then, did he go out to seek the Way and give his goosefoot staff to the Perfected One Shi Xinglin as a token of transmission? Since the Sixth Patriarch Huineng had already said, ‘Bodhi is originally no tree; the bright mirror is also no stand,’ what, then, was the Way he transmitted in the third watch of the night? Does the Platform Sutra not say: ‘Sentient beings come here to plant seeds; relying on the earth, they bear fruit. Inanimate things have no seeds and no self-nature, and therefore do not grow’?

“You Buddhists speak of non-arising; we Daoists speak of long life. Who, exactly, is this ‘one’ that lives long by arising from nonbeing? The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth lies in giving life and nurturing it. Heaven and Earth are merely a great mass within transformation; establishing Heaven and Earth and nourishing the myriad things is the great virtue of transformation. The great process of transformation is ceaselessly bringing forth life. It is not that transformation directly produces the myriad things; rather, each thing generates itself and changes on its own. Amid all this, there must be something that governs transformation!”

What you call “non-birth” does not refer only to stillness without movement. Only by remaining constantly in a state of “nonbeing” can life continue to arise; what we call “longevity” means this ceaseless arising. If you can realize “impermanence,” you can move alongside the power that governs creation and transformation! By your account, this still does not count as reaching the ultimate. Although Buddhists do not speak of “life,” its principles are in fact included in their teaching. Yet even the word “nature” is unsuitable, for there is a realm beyond both nature and life. To be born as though never born, to die as though never dead: in the lotus seat of the Land of Ultimate Bliss, who truly awakens to this?

The eulogy says: There is indeed rebirth, yet no one truly goes anywhere. If there is no Buddha, who is reborn? If there is a higher realm, who goes there?

When even “nonbeing” no longer exists, one has gone beyond nature and life. To be born as though never born, to die as though never dead: in the lotus seat of the Land of Ultimate Bliss, who truly awakens to this?

The eulogy says: There is indeed rebirth, yet no one truly goes anywhere. If there is no Buddha, who is reborn? If there is a higher realm, who goes there?

Even after “nonbeing” itself has dissolved, its subtle principle remains constant and enduring. Though there is joy, there is no mind attached to joy; within it lies a vast path of compassion for saving the world.

Someone asked, “Now that I have heard the teachings of the School of Nature, the practice tradition centered on realizing the mind and nature, can you explain the study of Life, the discipline of cultivating life and breath? What does the so-called Golden Elixir mean?”

Donglei replied, “A survey of ancient texts reveals no mention of the Dragon and Tiger, lead and mercury, or the Golden Elixir. These names became widespread only after Wei Boyang wrote the Cantong qi and Zhang Pingzhou composed the Wuzhen pian. Since then, books on cultivating life through the Golden Elixir have piled up by the cartload and filled whole rooms. Truth and falsehood are hard to distinguish, and heretical teachings have spread alongside them.

“‘Life’ is rooted in Qi. Human beings depend on Qi to live: with Qi, they survive; when Qi is exhausted, they die. That is why ordinary people call death ‘the breath being cut off.’”

What is called “life” (ming) is the root of Qi. People depend on Qi to live: with Qi, they can survive; without it, they die. That is why death is also called “the departure of breath”—when Qi ceases, life comes to an end.

The root of human life is the primordial Qi bestowed from before birth. Only after the body has formed does the acquired breath arise. When the parents unite and Jing and Qi combine, the embryo receives a spark of life endowed by Heaven and Earth. The wondrous union and congealing of Yin-Yang essence makes the embryo possible. Without that spark of life, Yin-Yang essence could not unite and coalesce, and no fetus could form.

This spark of life is the fundamental principle people receive from Heaven. It is what Zhou Dunyi meant by the Taiji, the source from which all things arise. When the embryo receives it, it establishes its own Taiji. Taiji then differentiates into Yin and Yang, and their transformations give rise to the Five Phases. The fetus then grows, moves, and changes on its own in the mother’s womb, gradually forming acquired Qi.

In the womb, the fetus breathes through its mother, with Qi entering and leaving through the navel. After ten months of gestation, once the child is born and the umbilical cord is cut, Qi can no longer enter and leave through the navel. It can then move only through the mouth and nose. This is what is called acquired Qi.

The primordial ancestral Qi (the original vital energy at the root of life) is stored in the Ancestral Palace, a place within the human body regarded as the source of life. It continually arises and transforms into acquired Qi day after day. This is why a distinction is made between primordial Qi and acquired Qi: primordial Qi is hidden in the Ancestral Palace and cannot be seen, while acquired Qi enters and leaves through the mouth and nose and can be sensed.

Where is the Ancestral Palace? It lies below the heart and above the kidneys, in front of the spine and behind the navel, at a point suspended in the center of the body. It is regarded as the place where life is received from generation to generation, and is also called the Ancestral Aperture. Primordial Qi is what is called “life”: with the Ancestral Aperture there is life; without it, there is no life. Although the Ancestral Aperture forms a Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) within the body, a self-contained whole in which Yin and Yang unite, a person’s breath remains connected to Heaven and Earth. If the seven apertures—the eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth—are all blocked, the person is cut off from Heaven and Earth and will die. Thus, the practice of cultivating “life” is the practice of cultivating the Ancestral Aperture. This is the teaching of the study of life.

The Golden Elixir is formed by uniting “gold” and “elixir” as one. Once the Golden Elixir has been refined, a person returns to the Taiji. At birth, a person receives a particle of the original substance bestowed by Heaven and thereby comes into being as a Taiji in their own right. This is a small Taiji that has differentiated from the Great Taiji—the meaning of the saying, “Each of the myriad things has its own Taiji.” By refining the Golden Elixir, one can return once more to the Great Taiji. For this reason, the Great Way of the Golden Elixir is not something that ordinary people can discuss lightly.

The eulogy says: “Yin and Yang join and unite, taking part in the creation of Heaven and Earth. Among the Five Phases, Metal is not alone; this is what is meant by the restored elixir.”

“Three and two become one” means that what appears divided into three and two ultimately returns to one. The Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental state of all things before they were differentiated, has no beginning. Since it has no beginning, how could one ask after it? This is the point of questioning Li Er, or Laozi.

After hearing this, Huiche sprang to his feet and silently took the teaching to heart. He bowed twice and said, “Though I am slow-witted, I am willing to follow these words in my practice.” Donglei said, “The Highest One, a Daoist honorific for the Dao or Laozi, saves all living beings, and the Way of Heaven cherishes life. This is something anyone can do, so how much more so you? Even ordinary men and women who practice in this way can enter the sacred realm. The key lies only in the strength of their resolve.”

The eulogy says: In every village, flowers are fragrant; beneath every tree, willows trail. Wherever the bright moon shines, there is the Palace of E’lü, a pure place of cultivation associated with Daoist immortals.

If one’s resolve remains unchanged until death, one can roam the realm of the immortals. Taiyi, a revered Daoist deity, looks down from above; after nine refinements, one can become strong and steadfast. Huiche said, “I would like to hear you explain this in detail.” Donglei said, “The Golden Elixir is also a metaphor. The Perfected One of Ziyang, the Daoist internal alchemist Zhang Boduan, said: ‘One’s original true nature is the Golden Elixir; the human body’s four great elements serve as the makeshift furnace and cauldron.’ Here, ‘gold’ is a metaphor for what remains undamaged through countless kalpas, while ‘elixir’ means that which is complete and without flaw.

“This gold is not the Metal of the Five Phases. It is gold born from the Water of Heaven’s First Number, preceding the Five Phases and belonging to the precelestial realm. Metal among the Five Phases has already entered the Five Phases and belongs to the postcelestial realm. Precelestial gold is purely a current of primordial Qi, the original energy from which life and all things arise, abiding within the Limitless. The movement of the Taiji within the Limitless is its manifestation. Only after the Taiji differentiates do the Five Phases come into being; Metal among the Five Phases belongs to the postcelestial realm.”

The precelestial Metal is, in essence, a formless Original Qi (the primordial breath before Heaven and Earth came into being). It exists within the Limitless, the state in which the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) moves and transforms. After Taiji differentiates, it first generates Water of Heaven One, then Fire of Earth Two, Wood of Heaven Three, Metal of Earth Four, and finally Earth of Heaven Five. Here, Heaven and Earth refer to Yin-Yang.

Water of Heaven One is in the north and has the number one; in the human body, it corresponds to Jing (essence). Fire of Earth Two is in the south and has the number two; it corresponds to Shen (spirit). Wood of Heaven Three is in the east and has the number three; it corresponds to the hun (ethereal soul). Metal of Earth Four is in the west and has the number four; it corresponds to the po (corporeal soul). Earth of Heaven Five is at the center and has the number five; it corresponds to the yi (intention). These are the generating numbers in the Hetu (River Diagram), an ancient diagram used to explain the numerical principles of Heaven and Earth and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water).

Among the Five Phases, Earth is the most important. For this reason, Earth governs eighteen days in each of the four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Water is restrained by Earth; Fire is weakened by Earth; Metal is generated through Earth; and Wood can grow only with Earth. Earth’s influence is also present within Water, Fire, Metal, and Wood.

Thus, Heaven One generates Water, and adding five gives Earth Six; Earth Two generates Fire, and adding five gives Heaven Seven; Heaven Three generates Wood, and adding five gives Earth Eight; Earth Four generates Metal, and adding five gives Heaven Nine; Heaven Five generates Earth, and adding five gives Earth Ten. These are the completing numbers of the Hetu: one, two, three, four, and five are the generating numbers, while six, seven, eight, nine, and ten are the completing numbers.

There are five numbers of Heaven and five numbers of Earth; the five positions correspond and pair with one another. The numbers of Heaven total twenty-five, those of Earth total thirty, and the combined number of Heaven and Earth is fifty-five. One and six are in the north, two and seven in the south, three and eight in the east, four and nine in the west, and five and ten at the center. The Hetu therefore uses these numbers to represent how the Five Phases are generated. Its image is circular, its form is empty and without substance, and it belongs to the precelestial images.

When the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental state before Heaven, Earth, and all things had differentiated, divided, Yin-Yang emerged, and from Yin-Yang the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) came into being. Yin-Yang is Heaven and Earth: between them, one brings forth and the other brings to completion, each depending on the other as its root. This is the principle represented by the Hetu, a diagram expressing the relationships among Yin-Yang and the Five Phases.

To cultivate the Golden Elixir, one must gather the primordial Qi that existed before Heaven and Earth differentiated and take it as the Elixir’s foundation. This primordial Qi is called “Metal.” Wuji and Taiji have different names, but Taiji is present in each and every thing. Ultimately, all share the same foundation: one source differentiates into the myriad things, and each of the myriad things contains that source. The human body, too, is a small cosmos. Just as it is with Heaven and Earth, so it is with the human body: the body’s primordial foundation is also called “Metal.”

Human life begins as a point arising from Taiji. In cultivation, one must now return from that point to Taiji. Cultivating against the ordinary process by which life unfolds is what is called the “Way of Return,” also known as the “Great Golden Elixir of Nine Returns and Seven Reversions,” a Daoist Neidan term for returning to the root and restoring the origin. This is the fundamental teaching transmitted heart to heart by the Most High, a Daoist honorific for Laozi, and the highest secret instruction. It teaches that nature and life are inseparable and must be cultivated together: the innate point of “nature” and “life” are one, so cultivating nature is cultivating life. This is the true learning that fully realizes one’s nature and brings life to completion. The other three vehicles—the upper, middle, and lower—each have their own methods of cultivation, but treat nature and life as separate; they are therefore all paths that depart from the correct Way.

The eulogy says: Fully realizing one’s nature and bringing life to completion is the foundation of learning. Only the sage of Nishan whom I honor, Confucius, grasped this true learning. The other three vehicles—the upper, middle, and lower—each have their own methods, but divide nature and life into two parts; they are all paths that depart from the correct Way. The eulogy also says: Only the sage of Nishan whom I honor understood that Confucius once used a dragon as a metaphor for Laozi.

In the deep quiet of night, a sound like the great bell Huangzhong seems to ring from within the paper bed-curtains; dressed in silk robes tinted like rosy clouds, one gathers lotus blossoms, one by one.

Someone asked, “The alchemical writings say that the most important things in cultivating the Dao are Jing, Qi, and Shen. The Scripture of the Heart Seal also says that the finest medicines are three: Shen, Qi, and Jing. From what you say, are Jing, Qi, and Shen not all important? One’s original true nature may perhaps be realized by those of the highest capacity, but how could people of middling or lesser capacity fully understand it? A person’s inborn life, from the moment of birth, is hidden in the Ancestral Palace—the place within the body where the primordial Qi resides—and each day transforms into acquired substances for the body to use. If we suddenly try to recover it now, where could we possibly find it?”

Donglei replied, “Nature and life are the foundations of a person; Jing, Qi, and Shen are the keys through which they function. After birth, a person’s life is lodged in the Ancestral Palace and gradually transforms into acquired substances for the body to use. Among the Three Treasures, Jing, Qi, and Shen are the most precious, but there is a distinction between their precelestial and postcelestial forms.

“Precelestial Jing is the Water born of Heaven One. It has principle but no physical form, exists within Qi—the primordial Qi—and permeates the whole body. Whenever the hour of Hai gives way to the hour of Zi, the Qi of Yang is born again; this is called Original Jing. At the slightest movement of thought, it immediately transforms into a tangible postcelestial substance.

“Precelestial Qi is the ancestral Qi of the central palace, called Original Qi. Each day it transforms into postcelestial Qi, which circulates through the body’s channels and nourishes it; it is not merely the Qi of breathing. Precelestial Shen is the heart’s luminous awareness, called Original Shen. Once it becomes entangled in knowledge and deliberation, it turns into postcelestial thinking Shen, or the discriminating spirit. Thus, cultivating the Dao means using the postcelestial to return to the precelestial: give priority to the precelestial, rather than pursuing the postcelestial.”

People do not understand this essential point and mistakenly believe that the essence and Qi formed after birth are the most precious things. They spend their days chasing fame and profit, their minds stirred by the seven emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure among them—and by every kind of desire. Outside, they are enticed by sights and sounds, wealth, and gain; within, they have not a moment’s peace. If postnatal essence and Qi are already difficult to preserve for long, how much more so is precelestial Qi? In the past, the Perfected Ziyang (Zhang Boduan, a Daoist Neidan practitioner) said, “Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, do not force yourself to guess if you have not met a true teacher.” Those who seek to study must therefore obtain a true teacher’s oral instructions before they can practice. Most troubling is that heterodox paths mislead people, while students lack the discernment to distinguish right from wrong. How, then, can they tell whether a teacher is upright or corrupt?

The verse says: “There is no need to deliberate deliberately within the heart; simply accord with nature. Do not cling to outward appearances, and you will recognize the precelestial Dao.”

In the deep of night, the heart is empty and clear; at all times, remain still and free of disturbance. The heart is like a cool jade vessel, steadfast even when bearing a heavy responsibility. Someone asked, “Then how does one go about taking a teacher, and by what means can one distinguish the upright from the corrupt?” Donglei replied, “To judge a teacher, first observe his conduct, for conduct is the concrete expression of things. Then listen to what he says, for speech reveals what is within. Some people often say more than they do; others act without regard for what they have said. You must carefully examine whether a person’s words and actions are consistent, sincere, and earnest. Only such a person is fit to be your teacher. Confucius said, ‘Listen to what a person says, and then observe what he does.’ He also said, ‘Review the old and understand the new; then you may serve as a teacher.’ In the past, Master Wang Kunyang said, ‘If a disciple lacks a sincere desire to seek the Dao and transcend worldly concerns, his innate discernment—the ability to perceive and understand—will be obscured. Even if he encounters a true teacher, spirits will keep him from meeting him and cloud his discernment, so that even if he sees the teacher, he will not recognize him. But if his sincerity is genuine and earnest, and he devotes himself to seeking a teacher, Heaven will not let him down; a true teacher will naturally come to him.’”

The eulogy says: When the heart is sincere, what one sees is true; when the heart is stained with dust, what one sees is obscured by dust. It is like drawing a bow to shoot an arrow: once the bowstring is pulled taut, it remains supple, like plants in spring.

Long ago, Weijian drew close to the Way of Creation. True seeking often means not clinging to the act of seeking; what one gains then proves wondrous and subtle.

Someone asked, “I have heard that there are three essentials in alchemical refinement. What are they?” Donglei replied, “The three essentials are the furnace and cauldron, the substances, and the firing process. The furnace is the implement for applying the firing process; the cauldron is the vessel that holds the substances. The substances are the innate True One Qi, already present within oneself, along with Jing, Shen, Hun, Po, and intent. The innate One Qi is the foundation for refining the Golden Elixir. It must pass through the Three Passes—the bodily barriers described in Neidan practice—and flow throughout the body’s blood vessels. Each day, gather this Qi as the substance for refinement, and bring the Shen, Hun, Po, and intent together in the central palace, the center of cultivation within the body. Place them in the furnace and cauldron and seal them in. Gather and refine them day after day, so that innate Jing does not transform into postnatal, tangible Jing, but instead collects in the central palace, is sealed within the furnace and cauldron, and further transforms into Qi. Let the Qi within Shen transform into Shen, and the Shen within the heart transform into emptiness. This is called cooking and refining.

“This process also includes the firing process. ‘Fire’ means applying the fire; ‘timing’ means knowing the right moment and measure. It is like cooking rice: if you use fire without controlling its timing and intensity, the rice will either remain undercooked or burn to charcoal. You must therefore find the right moment and degree. The furnace and cauldron, the substances, and the firing process are all essential to alchemical refinement; that is why they are called the Three Essentials.”

The answering eulogy says: Postnatal Qi and innate Qi join together, and during gathering and refinement they move according to the method of turning left. There is no need to seek the subtlety deliberately; simply remain diligent and tireless throughout the day.

In all one does, one must keep to the proper measure, neither going too far nor falling short, while remaining steadfast and focused. If one cultivates oneself in this way, one will grow ever more complete, like the sun gradually rising and the moon slowly becoming full.

Someone asked, “What are the so-called ‘Three Treasures’?” Donglei replied, “The Three Treasures are divided into the inner Three Treasures and the outer Three Treasures. The inner Three Treasures are Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit); the outer Three Treasures are the ears, eyes, and mouth. Ordinary people cannot live without Jing, Qi, and Shen. When Jing is abundant, it can transform into Qi; only with Qi can it transform into Shen. When Shen is vigorous, Qi is vigorous; when Qi is vigorous, Jing is abundant; and when Jing is abundant, Shen becomes more flourishing. A person whose spirit and vitality are full is more likely to be healthy and live long, and less likely to fall ill. When the spirit and vitality are weak, one is more susceptible to catching cold. If one does not take care to preserve them, illness will take advantage of the body’s weakness. This is why Jing, Qi, and Shen are called the inner Three Treasures.”

Lü Zu (Lü Dongbin) said, “The Dantian (energy center in the lower abdomen, where one cultivates) has its own treasure; there is no need to seek the Dao outside oneself. When facing the outer world, if the mind remains unmoved, there is no need to inquire into Chan.” Among the Three Treasures, preserving Jing is most important. The Huangting Jing (Scripture of the Yellow Court) says, “Immortals and those who cultivate the Dao are not born with supernatural powers; rather, they accumulate Jing and Qi and gradually cultivate themselves into perfected beings.” Thus, when Jing is depleted, Shen and Qi are depleted along with it. In youth, even when some Jing is lost, Shen and Qi often remain vigorous, so bodily weakness may go unnoticed. For older people, or those whose innate vitality is insufficient, once they reach their forties or fifties, even a slight loss of Jing and Qi can leave them feeling mentally exhausted and lacking strength the next day. This is clear evidence of the point.

The “Three Treasures” used in Mystical Practice (inner cultivation) refer to the Three Primes, not to Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) as formed after birth. Yet to seek what is innate, one must begin with what is postnatal. If one casts aside the postnatal, where could the innate be obtained?

The outer Three Treasures—ears, eyes, and mouth—allow Shen to leak out through the eyes, Jing through the ears, and Qi through the mouth. If one does not look, smell, or listen, and keeps the body still and settled, the Hun returns to the lungs, the Po to the liver, Jing to the kidneys, and intention to the spleen. This is called “harmonizing the Four Images”: bringing the parts of body and mind to rest in coordination.

Long ago, the Nine Heavens Numinous Flying Jade Maiden, an immortal figure in Daoist legend, appeared in a dream to my friend and taught: “The outer Three Treasures should be gathered within; the inner Three Treasures should be restrained and cherished. This is the foremost essential of beginning cultivation.” The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), a Daoist Neidan classic, says: “The Three Treasures of ears, eyes, and mouth should be sealed away and not opened to the outside. The perfected person sinks into the abyss, floats there in peace, and keeps to the center of the compass.” Thus, gathering in the Three Treasures is a crucial key to cultivating the Dao.

Commentary: The principles of the inner and outer Three Treasures deserve careful inquiry. Use the method of keeping to the center of the compass to guard body and mind, and nurture the vast, upright Qi through the way of harmony.

In cultivation, “returning from the later to the earlier” means turning back from the postcelestial to the precelestial. This is called the highest Dao method. “A bowl of jade nectar, while the frostless hare pounds its medicine” borrows the image of the Jade Hare pounding medicine in the Moon Palace to describe the subtle changes of Neidan cultivation.

Someone asked, “The meaning of the furnace and cauldron has already been explained in detail. Please say more about its subtler points.”

Donglei replied, “The furnace and cauldron refer to the central Yellow Court—the area in the middle of the body where one cultivates—and the Qi Cavity, where Qi gathered through inner refinement collects. ‘Yellow’ is the proper color of the center; a ‘court’ is the courtyard at the center of a dwelling. In the body, this corresponds roughly to the area below the heart and above the kidneys. The Qi Cavity lies within the navel, so the Yellow Court is likened to the cauldron and the Qi Cavity to the furnace. Shi Jianwu said, ‘In front is the navel gate; behind are the kidneys; between them stands a true Golden Cauldron.’ On closer examination, the subtle meaning is that the Yellow Court lies within the Qi Cavity. It does not refer to the Yellow Court acupuncture point below the heart.

Some people also regard the hollow passage running from Niwan, the region of the brain at the crown of the head, down to Yongquan, the acupoint on the sole of the foot, as the ‘Yellow Path,’ and take the upper and lower parts of the body as the furnace and cauldron. But these expressions merely use names and images to convey an idea; they do not mean that the body contains a fixed furnace or cauldron. The furnace is the cauldron, and the cauldron is the furnace; the Yellow Court is the Qi Cavity, and the Qi Cavity is the Yellow Court. They all refer to the same place. The key is that this is where precelestial Qi—the fundamental Qi that precedes the activities of postcelestial life—can be received. Then, by regulating the firing process, the practitioner transforms postcelestial Qi into precelestial Qi and returns to the root, restoring the source.

The Collection of the Middle and Harmony compares the body and mind to the furnace and cauldron, while the Perfected Person Ziyang’s Wuzhen Pian says that ‘Heaven and Earth are the furnace and cauldron.’ These metaphors have inexhaustible meaning. One must reflect on them deeply to understand that the ancients had good reason for presenting the teachings in this way.”

The eulogy says: “The places where the myriad things gather and arise each have their proper location. Through the inner and outer Yellow Courts, one may enter by the gate and ascend to the hall.”

It has no visible form; the name given to it is only an expedient label. Once you grasp its inner meaning, keep it in mind for the long term and do not forget it.

Someone asked, “If so, how should we understand the principles of the medicines and the methods of gathering and refining them?” Donglei replied, “The ‘medicines’ spoken of here refer to the innate Primordial Qi, as well as a person’s spirit, hun, po, and intention. Innate Primordial Qi is the utterly true, limitless Qi received at birth, arising from the first division of Taiji. A spark of the true Qi bestowed by Heaven enters the mother’s womb and combines with the Yin-Yang Qi of the parents, forming a person. This endowment of true Qi is the root of life: it is innate Primordial Qi, also called the Qi that contains the true essence of Great Unity.

Taiji differentiates into Yin-Yang, and Yin-Yang gives rise to the Five Phases. The essence of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases gathers to form a person’s Jing, Qi, and Shen. Thus innate Qi is also stored within the acquired physical form. Its root remains in the Qi cavity at the navel. The place at the navel that sustains the root of life is called the ‘ancestral aperture’—in Neidan practice, the aperture where the source of life resides. It is like the root of a flower or the stem of a fruit.

By the age of fifteen or sixteen, postnatal Qi (the Jing, Qi, and Shen that gradually develop after birth) has become abundant, and the Jing chambers—the parts that generate and store Jing—open. When people see beauty, their hearts are stirred; external things affect the senses, and the mind and spirit are moved in turn. Thus the original True Essence begins to be depleted. From then on, innate Qi—the original vital energy present from birth—gradually diminishes.

Yet at the transition from the Hai hour to the Zi hour, the Yin and Yang energies within the body unite. In this union, the Qi of True Oneness arises of itself, then transforms into postnatal Jing, Qi, and Shen for everyday use. The moment when Yin and Yang unite and true Yang naturally emerges is called the “Living Zi hour.” The true Yang that arises then is what is meant by the “One Qi of the pre-Heaven.”

At this time, practitioners must gather this pre-Heaven Qi and refine it according to the firing times—the timing and degree of refinement in cultivation—so that it does not transform into postnatal Shen for everyday expenditure. At the same time, they bring together the Qi in the body, along with the mind, spirit, Hun, Po, and intent, transforming them all into the pre-Heaven state to replenish what was previously lost. By gathering and refining each day, and replenishing each day, they continue until the original Qi is abundant and the body has returned to the state before sexual maturity. This is called “returning the Elixir,” or restoring one’s original True Essence.

At midnight, Yang Qi begins to stir. In the cycles of the heavens, this is called the “true Zi hour”; in the human body, it is called the “living Zi hour.” At this time, the external kidney—that is, the male sexual organ—naturally becomes erect. This is a sign that the true Zi hour has arrived.

But when desire arises, Yang Qi rises along with it and is often difficult to restrain. In the end, this may lead to the depletion of Jing and Qi. Even if Jing and Qi do not leave through the external orifices—that is, the body’s outward openings—once the sovereign fire, ministerial fire, and minister fire, the three kinds of inner fire, grow intense, they can transform innate Qi into acquired Qi, stripping it of its usefulness for cultivation.

Thus the Perfected Ziyang said, “When you see it, do not use it; once you use it, you can no longer see it.” Wu Chongxu said, “You must distinguish clear water from turbid water at its source: the clear can be used; the turbid cannot.” Here, “clear” means that true Yang arises naturally when no thought has stirred. If a thought arises first and Yang Qi stirs afterward, this is called “turbid.” The difference between clear and turbid therefore lies in whether a thought has stirred.

At the beginning of practice, even when one starts applying the methods, the mind should remain still. If the “True Yang” (the primordial, innate Qi spoken of in Neidan practice) suddenly stirs of its own accord, the external kidneys (the male genitalia) will inevitably become erect. After an erection occurs, the mind, too, will become intensely active, and the newly arisen True Yang will turn into postnatal Qi. The practitioner’s first task, then, is to gather and still the mind. The four characters “restrain anger and curb desire” are the key to cultivating nature and refining life: discipline anger and suppress desire.

When people are young and strong, it is relatively easy to restore what has been depleted. Around the age of fifty, they already find it difficult; for the elderly, it takes even greater effort. Patriarch Zhongli said, “Do not wait until old age to discover that lead and mercury have run low.” His words are well founded.

Yet youth brings both advantages and disadvantages, as does old age. The young have abundant energy, so their practice can advance readily; their difficulty is that desire is strong, making it hard to preserve Jing (essence). The old have fewer desires, and the fire of desire has subsided; their difficulty is that their energy has weakened, making it harder for their practice to advance. Those who aspire to this Dao should consider the matter carefully.

“Gathering and taking” means not deliberately gathering, yet something is gathered naturally; not deliberately taking, yet something is taken naturally. Practitioners of old said, “Gather the medicine when body and mind are still; apply the firing process in a state of Wuwei (non-action).” In practice, one need only keep the mind clear and quiet, and sit in stillness with focused, steady attention.

The pattern of Yin-Yang change is this: when stillness reaches its limit, movement begins; when movement reaches its limit, stillness returns. When sitting in stillness until one is utterly settled, the “true Yang” within the body—an Neidan (internal alchemy) term for the Yang energy that arises through cultivation—will appear naturally. At that point, remain at ease with a quiet mind and do not rush to grasp it. Once true Yang has arisen, continue to gather the spirit and guard the mind. Do not fixate on the place where it appears; let body and mind enter a state of emptiness, stillness, and quietude.

With daily practice, true Yang will gradually arise, accumulate, and become full. When Qi (vital energy) fills the Dantian (energy center below the navel), the lower abdomen will feel warm. Then, with only the subtlest intention, guide it backward and gather it at the coccygeal region, near the Weilü pass. When the true Qi is abundant, it will pass through the Three Passes—the Weilü, Jiaji, and Yuzhen gates along the Governing Vessel in Neidan practice—on its own; sometimes it passes through them gradually. Only after the Three Passes are clear may one apply the firing process, the practice of regulating breath and intention in Neidan cultivation.

A verse of praise says: From emptiness, substance comes forth; when stillness reaches its utmost, movement begins. At the birth of all things, there is settled calm, and an inner power of their own.

“Having passed through the three carts, one reaches the primordial source. In applying the firing process, Wuwei (non-action) is the guiding principle.” This means that cultivation must pass through three successive stages to reach a deep understanding of the source. When applying the firing process—the practitioner’s discernment of timing and progress in Neidan (internal alchemy)—Wuwei serves as the overall principle.

Someone asked, “What do the alchemical texts mean by ‘gold in water’ and ‘lead of the water land’?” Donglei replied, “Gold in water is lead of the water land, since lead is also a metal. The heart belongs to Fire, and the kidneys to Water. The heart contains Shen (spirit), which belongs to Fire; the kidneys store Jing (essence), which belongs to Water. Yet although the kidneys are where Jing is stored, at first they do not contain the Jing meant here.

Once thoughts begin to stir, the fire of desire arises. The three fires—the sovereign fire, ministerial fire, and people’s fire—blaze intensely, heating the whole body. The fluid produced by this heat and vaporization gathers in the kidneys, then passes out of the body through the Yang Gate, the opening through which seminal fluid is discharged. It becomes lustful Jing: seminal fluid brought forth by desire. If thoughts can be kept still and the fire of desire prevented from arising, then, at the proper moment, the true lead that emerges is the primordial, original Qi (vital energy)—the innate source of all things. This is what is called ‘gold in water.’

The state that appears at this time is called the ‘Heavenly Mechanism.’ This true lead is not produced by the kidneys themselves. It comes from emptiness and emerges through the kidneys. Because it manifests through the kidneys, it is called ‘gold in water,’ and also ‘lead of the water land.’”

The human heart is full on the outside and empty within. It belongs to Fire in the Five Phases and is compared to the Li trigram in the Book of Changes. Li is Yang on the outside and Yin within. The kidneys are empty on the outside and full within. They belong to Water and are compared to the Kan trigram. Kan is Yin on the outside and Yang within.

Kan and Li arise through changes in the Qian and Kun trigrams. Qian consists of three Yang lines, while Kun consists of three Yin lines. The central Yang line of Qian changes and enters Kun; the central Yin line of Kun enters Qian. Qian thus becomes Li, and Kun becomes Kan. For this reason, practitioners of the Way of the Elixir guide a single Qi (primordial energy) from the kidneys upward into the heart. This is like taking the central Yang line from Kan and placing it within Li, a process called “taking Kan to fill Li.” Qian corresponds to Metal, and Kan to Water. The central Yang line in Kan was originally the central Yang line of Qian, so it is called “Metal within Water.”

A verse of praise says: When thoughts return to thoughtlessness, life comes into being. Primordial energy flows abundantly without being depleted; this is the “essence of Heavenly One,” an essence and energy likened to Water arising from Heavenly One.

When Kan and Li exchange places, there is neither smell nor sound. With body and mind settled in stillness, one pays homage to the Jade Capital, the celestial realm of immortals in Daoist teaching. Someone asked, “Once this primordial Qi has been gathered as the medicine, how should one regulate the timing and intensity of the fire during cultivation?” Donglei replied, “The fire timing, too, follows what is natural; it needs only a little adjustment. The ancients said, ‘The true fire has no fixed moment, and the great medicine need not be measured.’ However, the methods handed down from antiquity use the Qian trigram’s tally of thirty-six and the Kun trigram’s tally of twenty-four, counting by means of the breath. This is called cooking and refining.”

A verse of praise says: What is the timing of the fire? Let it flow naturally. There is no fixed fire timing to maintain, and the medicine need not be measured.

Qian and Kun each have their own tally, and some people apply them according to set rules. Someone asked, “Why cook and refine?”

A verse of praise says: What is the timing of the fire? Let it flow naturally. There is no fixed fire timing to maintain, and the medicine need not be measured.

Heaven and Earth have their own patterns of movement, and at times one can cultivate in accordance with certain principles. Someone asked, “What does it mean to use a measure? How should breathing be applied?” Donglei replied, “The methods of refinement and cultivation are called the firing process: mastering the timing and measure of practice. The ancients treated this with great caution, because the celestial secret involved is extremely hidden. The Elixir Classic says, ‘The sages transmit the medicine, but not the firing process; since ancient times, few have understood it.’ The ‘medicine’ here refers to the inner True Qi that arises during cultivation. Only when True Qi has arisen can one apply the firing process. To apply it before True Qi has arisen is like trying to boil an empty pot with water and fire. Fire is the medicine, and the medicine is fire: when the fire rises, the medicine arises with it. Patriarch Bai said, ‘Refine the medicine with fire to form the Elixir: this is to guide the breath with Shen (spirit) and thereby attain the Dao.’ If one insists on applying the firing process before the medicine has arisen, this is not true fire; it is merely wasting effort on breathing through the mouth and nose.

One inhalation and one exhalation are called a breath. The body’s True Qi rising and descending is also called a breath. “Breath” carries the meaning of rest and stillness: when one settles into quiet, the breath becomes steady; when one rushes about and dissipates energy, the breath vanishes. Once the breath has returned to stillness, the root from which life continually renews itself is restored. The ancients went indoors to rest after dark in order to nourish life’s vitality. Shaozi said, “After the winter solstice comes exhalation; after the summer solstice comes inhalation. This is breathing measured by the year. Over the course of a day, exhalation comes after the Zi hour, and inhalation after the Wu hour. One inhalation and one exhalation make a breath. ‘Breath’ also means to nourish. As long as breathing continues, life’s arising and movement continue, and transformation and circulation have no end. Thus, each inhalation and exhalation has great significance for human beings.”

As you inhale, it is as if the Qi of Heaven and Earth enters your body; as you exhale, the Qi within you returns to Heaven and Earth. The Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) says: “Heaven and Earth steal from the myriad things; the myriad things steal from humanity; and humanity in turn steals from the myriad things. When these three forms of interaction among Heaven, Earth, and humanity each proceed as they should, the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—can be at peace.” Here, “stealing” means drawing upon one another and interacting. The key lies in breathing through the nose and mouth. Grasp this principle, and you can cultivate by drawing on the Qi of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things. Without understanding the essential method, you may instead be depleted by them.

However, “working the firing times”—adjusting the breath and the movement of internal Qi according to the stages of cultivation—actually means allowing the true Qi within the body to rise and descend naturally. It does not mean deliberately controlling the breath through the nose and mouth; that breath is simply used as a mechanism for entering the practice. Beginners have not yet opened the Three Passes, the three points of passage described in cultivation, so they must use the breath as an entry method and first regulate it. Once the Three Passes are open, the natural workings of Heaven will bring about rising and descending within the body. Only then can this be called the true firing times.

The breathing described here means that with each exhalation, the breath naturally leaves through the mouth and nose, while the body’s True Qi descends from the chest to the navel. With each inhalation, the breath naturally enters through the mouth and nose, while the body’s True Qi rises from the Tail Gate (near the tip of the tailbone), along the spine, to the crown of the head.

During practice, pay attention to the movement of Qi within the body rather than focusing on the mouth and nose. Let the mind and spirit rest with the breath, and listen quietly to its sound. Master Sima said, “Let the exhalation be fine and delicate, and the inhalation continuous and unbroken.” In short, the breathing should be neither heavy nor hurried, neither too fast nor too slow. Bring it to a calm, even state until its sound can no longer be heard.

As the mind grows calm, the breath naturally becomes even; when the breath is even, the mind and spirit are more easily settled. This is called “mind and breath mutually resting together”: when breathing is calm, the mind and spirit become settled. When the breath has been brought to a state where it seems almost present and almost absent, gently focus the mind and spirit on the Lower Dantian (the Neidan practice area below the navel). The mind and spirit will then naturally settle, True Qi will gather, and warmth will be felt throughout the body.

Patriarch Bai said, “In the past, when I met a sage master who imparted the true formula, all that was needed was to gather the spirit and enter the Qi Cavity.” The Elixir Classic also says, “In regulating the breath, regulate the True Breath. Use every breath to refine the spirit, and continue refining until the mind is empty and the spirit does not move recklessly.” The “spirit” referred to here is the settled mind and spirit. With sustained practice over time, True Qi will gradually become abundant, and eventually it will naturally be able to pass through the Three Passes (the three gateways through which Qi moves in Neidan practice).

Once the Three Passes—the three gates along the Governing Vessel used in cultivation—are unobstructed, true Qi will naturally rise and descend. During this movement, practice according to the numbers of the Qian tally, thirty-six, and the Kun tally, twenty-four. The method is to use the fingers to press in turn the time positions represented by the twelve Earthly Branches. When “one Yang arises” (the first stirring of Yang energy), press the Zi position and count the breaths as true Qi naturally rises and descends. One rise and one descent count as one breath. Stop after thirty-six breaths, then move to the Chou and Yin positions, counting thirty-six breaths at each.

At the Mao position, stop counting breaths. Set the mind in a state of emptiness, stillness, and quiet, and let the Qi mechanism come to rest naturally. This is called “bathing.” After a brief pause, the Qi mechanism stirs again. Press the Chen and Si positions in turn, counting thirty-six breaths at each. This is called “advancing the Yang fire.” “Advancing” means keeping the spirit and intention in the Kun abdomen (the lower abdomen), while directing awareness to the crown of the head.

At the Wu position, count twenty-four breaths. Move to the Wei and Shen positions, counting twenty-four breaths at each. At the You position, stop counting breaths and again keep the mind empty and still, allowing the Qi mechanism to come to rest naturally. This, too, is called “bathing.” After a brief pause, the Qi mechanism stirs again. Press the Xu position and count twenty-four breaths; then move to the Hai position and count twenty-four more, followed by an additional five breaths, to match the number of 365 degrees in the circuit of Heaven. Counting twenty-four breaths is called “withdrawing the Yin talisman.” “Withdrawing” means letting awareness settle in the Kun abdomen, while gathering and stabilizing the spirit and intention there. This is the Small Circulation of Heaven’s firing times: a method of cultivation that coordinates the movement of the inner Qi mechanism with breathing and the regulation of mind and spirit.

Once the prescribed number of celestial cycles—the complete rounds of the practice—has been completed, focus the spirit and intention on the Qi cavity, the place where one observes and gathers the breath during cultivation. Rest quietly with attention there, keeping the mind empty and still, and gradually letting go of thoughts until you enter a state of nonattachment. In this way, you will naturally reach a state of undifferentiated calm. Qi transforms into Shen, and Shen then transforms into emptiness. Ultimately, the aim is simply to gather your original spirit and make it whole, cultivating the Yin’e—the foundation on which the internal elixir condenses into form—and thereby bring forth the Dharma Body, the pure body formed through cultivation.

These, however, are methods already described by the ancients; they should not be treated as unchanging rules. If the mind clings to counting the celestial cycles, it will inevitably make a deliberate effort. Such effort can easily stir the inner fire and cause agitation. Practicing in this way may lead to excessive fire that depletes and harms Jing and Qi. It is safer to hold simply to these eight words: “The mind and breath accompany one another; in stillness and emptiness, gather and illumine.” Let thoughts accompany the breath, keep body and mind quiet, empty, and clear, and sustain focused observation. This naturally gathers Shen and Qi and brings harmony throughout the body, making it the more reliable approach.

The verse says: “Heaven and Earth open and close, changing; the breath responds in kind. Rather than multiply such refinements, return to stillness.”

When mind and breath accompany one another, this is the subtle way to stillness and empty clarity. Sustain focused observation, and harmony and ease will naturally fill the body.

Someone asked, “The alchemical texts say: ‘The moon’s fullness depends on the essential formula; the wonder of the Zi hour is conveyed from heart to heart.’ What does this mean?”

Donglei replied: “The ‘full moon’ refers to Yang Qi reaching abundance, with its light complete. In the sky, the moon first shows a faint glimmer on the third day of the lunar month. Yang Qi rises from the Geng direction; this is called the birth of the first Yang. On the eighth day, the eastern half of the moon shines, its light half full; this is called the birth of the second Yang, also known as the First Quarter. On the fifteenth day, all three Yang are complete and the moonlight is full, so the moon becomes round. From the sixteenth day, Yin first begins to arise and the moon gradually wanes. By the twenty-third, only the western half still shines; half of the moon’s Po contains the Hun. This is called the birth of the second Yin, also known as the Last Quarter. On the thirtieth day, all three Yin are complete and the Hun is entirely hidden, so the moon becomes completely dark.”

The moon belongs to Yin. It has no light of its own and relies on the sun’s light to appear bright. The sun symbolizes the Yang spirit, while the moon symbolizes Yin essence. Yang can give off light, but Yin has none of its own, so the moon must be illuminated by the sun. The scripture calls the moon’s state at the first quarter “half a jin of Metal” and its state at the last quarter “eight liang of Water.” As the moon passes through its first and last quarters, its light gradually appears. The Metal and Water spoken of here are terms in Neidan (internal alchemy) used as metaphors for the substances cultivated in practice; the corresponding stages of the cultivation process are also encompassed by the changes at the two quarters.

The body’s true Jing (essence) belongs to Yin, like the moon; true Shen (spirit) belongs to Yang, like the sun. Qi (vital energy) runs through both Jing and Shen. “Refining Jing into Qi” means refining Yin essence until it transforms into pure Yang primordial Qi. “Refining Qi into Shen” means allowing Qi to transform completely into Shen. “Refining Shen and returning to emptiness” means refining Shen as well, so that one becomes united with the Great Void, the vast realm of emptiness.

Thus, in cultivation, the first stirring of true Yang is likened to the moon rising from the Geng direction. When Qi moves to the Ji ridge, the section of the spine in the middle of the back, it is likened to the first quarter moon; when Qi reaches the crown of the head, it is likened to the full moon. After Qi reaches the Niwan, a cultivation site within the head, it must descend again. This is likened to the sixteenth day of the lunar month, when Yin begins to arise. When Qi descends to the Jiang Palace, a cultivation site in the chest associated with the heart, it is likened to the last quarter moon. As it continues downward and enters the Qi Cavity, a cultivation site in the lower abdomen, it is likened to the moon at the end of the month, dark and without light. At month’s end, the sun and moon join as one, symbolizing the union of the Hun and Po souls.

The full moon is therefore used to convey the abundance and completeness of Yang light. The moon does not become full until the fifteenth day. The scripture also explains this using the directional arrangement of numbers in the Luo Book, an ancient diagram used for numerical and symbolic interpretation: nine is above, one below, three to the left, and seven to the right; two and four lie at the shoulders, while six and eight lie at the feet.

The number one is in the north, and the number nine is in the south; with the number five at the center, the total from north to south is fifteen. The number three is in the east, and the number seven is in the west; with the central five, the total from east to west is also fifteen. The number two is in the southwest, and the number eight is in the northeast; adding the central five, the total from northeast to southwest is fifteen. The number six is in the northwest, and the number four is in the southeast; adding the central five, the total from northwest to southeast is also fifteen.

Leaving out the central five, the northern one, northeastern eight, and northwestern six add up to fifteen. The southern nine, southeastern four, and southwestern two also add up to fifteen. The eastern three, southeastern four, and northeastern eight total fifteen; the western seven, southwestern two, and northwestern six also total fifteen. Whether counted along intersecting vertical or horizontal lines, the result is always fifteen.

This is because three represents the beginning of generation, five represents the completion of generation, and ten represents the completion of accomplishment. The principle of generative transformation arises from the union of three and five, yielding fifteen.

However far the numerical sequence is extended—to ten, a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand—it ultimately remains rooted in “One.” The movement and circulation of “One Qi” already contains the numerical principles by which the myriad things come into being and change. The River Chart (Hetu) and the Luo Writing (Luoshu) correspond to each other and connect within and without.

In the River Chart, the water of Heaven One combines with the metal of Heaven Nine to make ten; the wood of Heaven Three combines with the fire of Heaven Seven to make ten; the fire of Earth Two combines with the wood of Earth Eight to make ten; and the metal of Earth Four combines with the water of Earth Six to make ten. The center contains Five. Together these make up the numbers of the River Chart: One, Three, Five, Seven, and Nine are the numbers of Heaven, while Two, Four, Six, Eight, and Ten are the numbers of Earth. The numbers of Heaven add up to twenty-five, and those of Earth to thirty, making fifty-five in all. The River Chart already contains all the numerical principles of Heaven and Earth.

The numerical sequence of the River Chart is One, Six, Two, Seven, Three, Eight, Four, Nine, Five, Ten. It corresponds to the opposing arrangement of the Luo Writing—One, Nine, Two, Eight, Three, Seven, Four, Six—and the two connect within and without. Thus, the pattern of generation and transformation embodied in the River Chart already contains the opposing arrangement embodied in the Luo Writing.

The Qingnang Jingzhuan says: “Both the Hetu and the Luoshu establish a center through the number fifteen. Although the Hetu has four images, at the stage when Yin and Yang rise and descend in their precelestial state, and Heaven and Earth have only just separated above and below, it cannot yet be said that the four directions have taken shape. Only when the central number five is established as the center do the four directions clearly settle into their proper places. Once the four cardinal directions are fixed, the four intermediate directions—the diagonal points—are arranged between them, and the eight directions come into being. This is the natural unfolding of the principle of Heaven and Earth. Thus the Hetu and the Luoshu are the foundation of principle, Qi, image, and number. One, two, three, four, and five are the numbers of Heaven; six, six, eight, nine, and ten are the numbers of Earth. Heaven and Earth each have five numbers, and together they make ten: this is the Way of fifteen. How could anyone who studies the Dao fail to understand the principle of establishing the center through the number fifteen?”

The “Zi hour of the right moment” refers to the living Zi hour that arises during one’s own cultivation. The Zi hour at midnight is fixed; a Zi hour that may arise at any time, unconstrained by the clock, is called the living Zi hour. Others cannot know this living Zi hour; only you can. That is why it is said, “Its subtlety lies in transmission from heart to heart”: its mystery must be realized through the Heavenly Mind and then conveyed through the heart and intention.

The verse says: As Yin and Yang rise and descend, they subtly congeal into the Elixir. The waxing and full moon respond to one another, taking fifteen as their beginning.

Vitality stirs and flows; only through attentive observation can one perceive it. Heaven and humanity join, and through long cultivation they ultimately unite in perfect harmony.

Hui Che asked, “What the master speaks of—is it a matter of this side, or of the other side? Or does the other side have a mystery of its own?”

The waxing and full moon respond to one another, taking fifteen as their beginning.

When body and mind are clear and responsive, one quietly observes within. Heaven and humanity join with one another, and through long practice, they can become integrated and complete. Huiche asked, “Are the things you speak of practices for cultivating in this life, or do they refer to a state beyond the world? Or does cultivation beyond the world have its own mysterious wonders?”

Donglei replied, “Everything I have spoken of concerns the Reverted Elixir, a term in Daoist Neidan practice, and still belongs to cultivation in this life. If we speak in terms of the Three Vehicles, a Buddhist classification of different levels of practice, it has already reached a state beyond the world. But the lineage of the Celestial Immortals teaches the supreme of the supreme, with its own wondrous, otherworldly secrets of Heaven. These matters should not be spoken of lightly to someone who lacks clear virtue and long-standing, sincere effort. Careless disclosure may instead give rise to doubt. If a person’s mind cannot be empty and still, the principles of Heaven and desires will inevitably struggle against each other. When the principles of Heaven grow dim and desires grow strong, one can easily fall into heretical teachings. A blind person leading the blind astray, misleading those who come after—how great would the harm be?”

The verse of praise says: Cultivate the mind and nature, preserve life, and keep the principles of Heaven and desires from contending. The foremost principle of cultivating as a Celestial Immortal, too, lies in bringing the mind to clear understanding.

The mysteries of the Great Dao are profound and subtle; their essence lies in natural stillness and purity. The states of this world and beyond it can wondrously merge and coalesce.

Huiche withdrew respectfully, observed a six-day fast, and kept the five precepts. After seventy-five days had passed, on the auspicious morning of the winter solstice in midwinter, he swept the courtyard, washed and bathed, and burned incense to respectfully invite the Master of Thunder to return to the hall where the Changes was studied. He performed a solemn bow and swore an oath with his own blood, showing the sincerity of his pledge before Heaven. That day, gentle winds blew, and auspicious clouds filled the sky.

Huiche approached with the deference due a disciple, knelt upright, and asked: “Earlier, I awakened to my original nature and understood that stillness and insight must be cultivated together. For a time, I thought the Dao lay there. Later, when I heard you explain the principles of returning the elixir, I suddenly saw everything clearly. Then I heard that the supreme, highest path of the celestial immortals holds mysterious secrets beyond comparison with the teachings of the Three Vehicles. I earnestly beg you, Master, in your compassion, to guide and save me.”

Donglei said: “Alas, to meet someone worthy of instruction and not teach them is to lose a treasure bestowed by Heaven; to teach someone unfit to receive the teaching invites unseen punishment. To remain silent when one should speak is to fail the other person; to speak when one should not is to misuse words. The wise neither fail those who can be taught nor scatter their words indiscriminately. I understand now: you are fit to be taught. Come, and I will tell you: cultivation of the Dao must begin from below in order to climb high; it must begin close at hand in order to travel far.

Broadly speaking, the methods of the highest cultivation first refine Jing into Qi, then refine Qi into Shen, and finally refine Shen to return to Emptiness. At the end, one must also set up the furnace and cauldron anew, establish Heaven and Earth again, and devote oneself single-mindedly to cultivating nature, until one refines Emptiness and unites with the Dao. This is a method that cultivates life first and nature afterward. The furnace and cauldron, Heaven and Earth, are terms in Neidan cultivation that refer to the bodily and mental conditions on which practice depends, and to the transformations of Yin-Yang.

The cultivation method of our Celestial Immortal lineage begins with cultivating the mind and nature. When nature reaches perfection, the Way of life naturally reaches perfection as well. This is a discipline of fully understanding one’s nature and fulfilling one’s life. Devoting oneself to the upper pass also encompasses the middle and lower passes. As Zhuangzi said, “Forget the activity of the spirit and transcend life and death.” Its subtleties differ from the Three Vehicles—the three paths of practice in Buddhism. It takes the Great Void, the boundless expanse of emptiness, as its furnace and cauldron; the Three Origins, the primal energies of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, as its medicines; the Heavenly Heart as the basis that governs transformation; the Mysterious Pass, the key opening of mind and spirit in cultivation, as the portal that coordinates all things; and transformation into undifferentiated unity as its sole method.

The Treatise on Discerning Delusion says: “Gathering the spirit and collecting Qi is like guarding a city. Forgetting contrivance and cutting off thought is like holding the power of life and death. Stillness and wisdom are like water and fire. Movement and rest are like advancing and retreating. Purity, stillness, and naturalness are the means of practice. Harmonious Qi wafting through the body is the bathing. Years, months, days, and hours are the firing times. Bringing body and mind into a single whole is their joining. Shattering the Void is the completion of cultivation.”

Master Qiongguan said: “The Way of the Celestial Immortals is like a pearl rolling on a crystal plate: perfectly rounded, nimble, and full of life. How could it be constrained by Yin-Yang changes within the Five Phases? One must leap beyond Heaven and Earth and shatter the Void for cultivation to be complete.”

Master Qiongguan also said: “The Way of the Celestial Immortals is like a pearl rolling on a crystal plate, agile and alive. How could it be constrained by Yin-Yang within the Five Phases? One must go beyond Heaven and Earth to be called a person who has attained the Way. This method is simple and easy to practice; it can readily be understood and proven effective through instruction from mind to mind. Other higher methods also require the use of hexagram lines and weight measures, making them intricate and difficult. Even the slightest error can lead to a very different result. Hence the saying: ‘If the difference is no more than a hair’s breadth, no Elixir will form.’ I transmit the method to you mind to mind; you must understand it with your own mind.”

The closing verse says: This method is subtle and lofty, yet its path is simple and easy to follow. Shattering the Void is the highest state attained through cultivation.

Keep the mind true to its original nature, free of distracting thoughts. What is taught through the transmission of mind and direct oral instruction is the most precious and secret of truths.

Huiche asked, “What is the difference between the Supreme Vehicle, the highest level of cultivation, and the teachings of the Three Vehicles?”

Master Lei replied, “The difference lies only in how ‘other’ and ‘self,’ ‘this side’ and ‘that side,’ are distinguished. From this side, Jing, Qi, and Shen are the Three Origins: the three fundamentals that constitute the human body. From that side, Heaven, Earth, and humanity are the Three Origins, embracing everything between Heaven and Earth and reaching everywhere. The Three Origins of Jing, Qi, and Shen, by contrast, are spoken of from within a single body.

“Original Jing, Original Qi, and Original Shen are already present in my body, so they are called ‘self’ and belong to this side. The Origin of Heaven, the Origin of Earth, and the Origin of humanity are also contained in the principles I embody, so they are called ‘other’ and belong to that side. Among the methods of the Three Vehicles, some divide nature and life into ‘other’ and ‘self’; some distinguish them by what comes first and what comes later. Others call the School of Nature, which focuses on cultivating nature, ‘this side,’ and the School of Life, which focuses on cultivating life, ‘that side.’ We of the Celestial Immortal tradition, whose aim is to become Celestial Immortals, make no distinction between ‘other’ and ‘self.’ We speak only of the principle that unites all into one.”

The eulogy says: Heaven, Earth, humanity, and Original Qi are gateways into the Dao. Making no distinction between ‘other’ and ‘self,’ this Great Dao alone is supreme. Through the principle that unites all into one, Heaven and Earth can be encompassed. Supreme and mysterious, the highest Dao is revealed through it.

Huiche asked, “What matters most?”

Master Lei replied, “Opening the Mysterious Pass, the crucial gateway to the subtle inner realm in cultivation, is the first priority. The Mysterious Pass is the body’s great gate. If the gate does not open, how can one enter the inner chambers and gather the Three Origins, transforming them into the medicines within oneself?”

The eulogy says: O Mysterious Pass, Mysterious Pass—the realm where many mysteries converge. It can open wide and draw inward, as if receiving the sovereign’s favor and thereby gaining authority to proclaim and enact his commands.

A flower seems to have fragrance, yet its fragrance is no ordinary one; the moon seems curved, yet its curve is more than a matter of shape. If you wish to know its true appearance, where should you begin to look?

The fragrance of a flower is not its true fragrance, and the moon’s crescent shape is not its original form. To recognize the true nature of things, one must return to Mount Lu—here a metaphor for the place where things are as they originally are—and look.

Huiche asked, “In Golden Elixir practice—that is, Neidan cultivation—opening the Three Passes is generally treated as the first priority. Now you say the Mysterious Arrow is most crucial. What is the difference between the Mysterious Pass and the Three Passes?”

Master Lei replied, “The Three Passes are divided into front and back. The three passes at the back are the Tail Gate, the Spinal Clamp, and the Jade Pillow; these are called the first three passes. The three at the front are the Mudball Palace, the Crimson Palace, and the Lower Dantian; these are called the last three passes. The Elixir Classic says, ‘Three times three in front, three times three behind; gather them up, and bear them all at once.’ This means that the first three passes lie along the spine and are linked to the Governing Vessel, while the last three lie at the front of the body and are linked to the Conception Vessel. Once the Conception and Governing Vessels are connected, the meridians throughout the body also become unobstructed. When all six passes at the front and back are opened in a single day, it is like lifting all six gates together on a shoulder pole; hence the phrase ‘bear them all at once.’”

The Ren and Du vessels are the body’s red and black meridians. The Book of Elixirs says: “In the Way within the human body, if we follow the course along which it moves, there is an aperture behind the navel and in front of the coccyx, called Guanyuan.” The movement of Qi enters here and proceeds to the lower Yellow, then ascends along the Yellow Way to the middle and upper Yellow. The Book of Elixirs calls the Yellow Way “the path along which the three precelestial treasures in the Way of immortals move together.” It also calls it the “Yellow Center,” regarding it as the vital point through which the Way of cultivating immortality governs the whole body. The Book of Changes says: “The Yellow Center connects with the principles and occupies the proper place within the body.” This is regarded as the foundation from which people are born and their lives established, and as connected to the origin that existed before Heaven and Earth were differentiated. Laozi calls it “the Gate of the Mysterious Female” and also “the root of Heaven and Earth.” Guanyuan is the portal through which Yin-Yang Qi enters and leaves, and is therefore also called the “Pass.”

“Dark” means deep and unfathomable. The mysterious and wondrous arises from here: this is the place within the body where the foundation of Taiji is established. Everyone is born from this place, and cultivation should begin here and then return to the origin. Therefore, the highest method of returning the Elixir requires first gathering the precelestial One Qi—the primordial energy formed before birth. It travels upward in reverse from Guanyuan to Kunlun, then descends to the Crimson Palace, enters the Dantian, and reaches the Qi cavity. Next, one maintains the fire phase, then continues with the water phase. This is called “cooking” and “refining.” The cultivation method of the lineage of Celestial Immortals depends on the Mysterious Pass from beginning to end. The Mysterious Pass, then, is not something to cultivate or attend to through the fire and water phases only at the start of practice.

The verse says: “Occupying the proper place, the Yellow Center connects with the principles. No end can be named, and no beginning can be defined.”

From beginning to end, cultivation hinges on this one matter. The Great Simplicity—the original, plain state before differentiation—is connected with it, and one should take Huang and Li as teachers and friends.

Huiche asked, “If the Mysterious Gate—the crucial aperture where inner Qi activity manifests during cultivation—opens first, must the Three Passes still be opened?”

Master Lei replied, “If the Mysterious Gate opens first, there is no need to open the Three Passes afterward. Once the Three Passes have been cleared, advancing further into emptiness and stillness means entering the realm of emptiness from the outside inward. When the Mysterious Gate opens, however, it manifests from within outward. Entering emptiness from the outside can be genuine or false: in the genuine case, the inner and outer are one; in the false case, the surface appears empty and still, while the inside remains full. Making the mind truly empty and still takes great effort. It can be achieved only through genuine self-forgetting. Cultivation has practical effect only when inner emptiness is attained. Once the Mysterious Gate opens, the body is like a transparent shell of gauze, and all its apertures open. The true Qi activity of ascent and descent then has its own pathways and no longer depends on the Three Passes. If the Three Passes are cleared first, one must still wait for the Mysterious Gate to open before gathering and drawing in the Three Primal Energies—the three kinds of original Qi described in cultivation.”

The praise says: Once you have grasped the mystery of the Dao, what use are the Three Passes? The Three Passes have form, while the One Origin has no bounds.

Use the formless to govern what has form, and Kunlun—the head—becomes a carp. How wondrous, wondrous beyond wonder! This is indeed a beautiful metaphor.

Huiche asked, “Please explain in detail the secret essentials of opening the Mysterious Gate.”

Master Lei replied, “For beginners, the difficulty lies in keeping the mind and spirit steady. If you can gather the Shen and quiet the Qi, taking your stand before the prior-to-Heaven, the Mysterious Gate will open with ease. My former teacher said, ‘Cultivation begins with thoughtlessness.’ Thus, there are several methods by which students can begin their practice.”

The first explanation is this: Let go of every kind of concern, and body and mind will naturally become still, empty, and clear. This is the introductory formula for “blending and transformation” (hunhua), taught by the former master. But people’s thoughts are in turmoil all day long, and they can hardly settle even for a moment. They are like boiling water—how could they attain emptiness and stillness? Without a practical method, how can they continue their cultivation?

Practitioners should first use their own mind to contemplate the mind’s source. Body and mind will then grow still, and the spirit will become empty and luminous. The “mind’s source” here does not mean the physical heart within the body. It means the mind that is still, empty, and clear, with an awakened awareness that never grows obscure. Use the key of “neither clinging nor separating” to keep watch over it: neither grasp at it nor abandon it, so that the mind is not confined to any fixed location. Remain steadily in this state, often noticing that the mind is empty and untouched by anything, and feeling only settled stillness. In this way, stillness guards the spirit. This is what it means to have an inner anchor and thus remain unmoved by external things. The Diamond Sutra’s words, “One should give rise to the mind without abiding anywhere,” also refer to bringing forth a clear mind without clinging to any place.

Another explanation is this: Gather the mind in again and again, drawing it inward and storing it at the cavity of the spinal pass (jiaji), a cultivation site in the middle of the back. Keep it there without straying, and scattered, deviant thoughts will gradually fade. Distractions will lessen, the restless mind will settle, and delusive thoughts will cease. With long practice, the true breath will naturally appear, reaching a state that seems to involve no breathing. When the breath settles into deep stillness, the foundation of life becomes firm. This is a good method of cultivation based on “keeping stillness in the back” (genbei), as described in the Book of Changes under the Gen hexagram. “Keeping stillness in the back” means bringing breath to rest and gathering body and mind inward.

A further explanation is this: Keep the mountain root (shangen) in mind. At birth, the nose is the first part to form, which is why it is called the “ancestral mountain root.” The mountain root lies at the upper end of the bridge of the nose, between the eyebrows, and is connected to the ancestral aperture (zuqiao). In Daoist Neidan cultivation, the ancestral aperture is regarded as an important opening said to link one with the workings of Heaven and Earth. When keeping the mountain root in mind, follow the principle of “neither forgetting nor forcing”: keep it in awareness without applying deliberate effort, as though remembering it and yet as though forgetting it. With prolonged practice, a sense of emptiness, stillness, and stability will arise. The mountain root and the ancestral aperture will seem to merge into one. Continue to guard them in stillness, then let go even of the thought of guarding. After long practice, one day body and mind may seem to enter an unconscious state, while one’s own luminous awareness merges into an undivided whole. This is the state of primordial stillness and unity, the true realm known as entering the Mysterious Aperture.

This state hinges on a single thought arising: when the mind turns toward the immortals, it enters their realm; when the mind settles on ordinary concerns, it remains among the ordinary. Such is the principle of resonance. At times, in utter stillness, one suddenly feels that the realm has become boundless. At times, the stars and moon seem reflected on the sea, the moon’s image imprinted amid rippling waves. At other times, one seems to see a vast, level lake, with plants and trees flourishing along its shores. These wondrous visions are hard to put into words. They signal that the Mysterious Pass—the opening where spirit and Qi meet and the mind’s realm suddenly unfolds—has opened.

But if a thought arises and one clings to these visions, the Mysterious Pass immediately disappears from view. So one should observe with a still mind, without being drawn along by appearances. When the Mysterious Pass opens, it is as though one connects with the original, undifferentiated essence. The Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, along with the Six Directions (above, below, and the four quarters), are all contained within it; it is also like the boundless Great Void. When the moment arrives, consciousness naturally perceives what is there, and all kinds of appearances, real or illusory, emerge in succession. One need only be aware of them, without becoming attached.

The Four Hundred Characters on the Golden Elixir says: “This Pass is no ordinary pass; Heaven and Earth, Qian and Kun, together bring it forth. It is called the Cavern of Spirit and Qi, and within it are the essences of Kan and Li.” This refers precisely to the Mysterious Pass. The furnace and cauldron—the body and mind on which cultivation depends—are established here; the ingredients refined in cultivation, Jing, Qi, and Shen, are gathered here; and the timing and stages of practice are governed here. From beginning to end, through the formation of the embryo and the attainment of sagehood, cultivation cannot be separated from this place.

In practice, some make the mind depend on the breath; others keep the spirit within emptiness and stillness. The aim is to seem to hold it without holding it, and to seem to forget it without forgetting it: neither to draw too close nor to stray too far. In short, let go of distracting thoughts of body and mind, and observe quietly. Then spirit can gather and Qi can settle. Those who study the Dao should first take freedom from thought as their foundation. If they uphold this sincerely and persevere without wavering, they need not worry that they will fail to enter the Dao.

The verse says: Let body and mind return to stillness, keep the spirit clear and open, and release every concern. If sincerity endures without cease, why distinguish day from night?

Suddenly, it seems to open wide and clear, and all things change along with it. After awakening, one returns to stillness and enters the state of the “Dao Infant and Maiden” (Daoist internal alchemy terms symbolizing the fruits of cultivation).

Hui Che said, “Earlier, you said that the Yellow Court (a part of the body associated with cultivation) and the qi cavity (a place where acquired true Qi gathers and is stored) are the furnace and cauldron. You also said that body and mind are the furnace and cauldron, and that Heaven and Earth are the furnace and cauldron. Now you say that the Great Void is the furnace and cauldron. I hope you will explain further the profound and subtle principles involved.”

Master Lei replied, “The two words ‘body and mind’ already contain the principles found in ten thousand volumes of books. Here, ‘body’ does not mean the physical body with its visible form, but the Dharma Body (the essential body that transcends physical form). ‘Mind’ does not mean the mind of everyday human thoughts, but the Heavenly Mind (the original mind attuned to the Dao of Heaven). The Dharma Body seems formless, yet it exists; the Heavenly Mind seems to have a mind, yet transcends ordinary thoughts. Only those who deeply understand the transformations of creation and see into its hidden mysteries can grasp this principle.

“The Yellow Court lies above the qi cavity, and the two are connected from top to bottom. Within the qi cavity there is also a ‘Qi cavity’—the place where the primordial Qi is received and set in motion. The qi cavity stores acquired true Qi; the Qi cavity is the source that receives primordial Qi. It is also what is called the Mysterious Pass, the crucial point where primordial Qi is activated in internal alchemy.

“Qian represents Heaven and belongs to Yang; Kun represents Earth and belongs to Yin. The upper half of the human body belongs to Yang, and the lower half to Yin. The Book of Changes says, ‘Qian is the head; Kun is the belly.’ Thus true nature resides in the Niwan (a cultivation site in the head), while Heaven’s mandate resides within the navel. True nature belongs to Qian, and Heaven’s mandate belongs to Kun, so Qian and Kun symbolize true nature and Heaven’s mandate. Qian and Kun also signify mutual union, while Yin and Yang hold the potential to transform and reverse. True nature contains Heaven’s mandate, and Heaven’s mandate contains true nature; hence the saying that Qian and Kun form the furnace and cauldron.

“The Great Void—the vast, boundless emptiness—can serve as the furnace and cauldron because it embraces the Six Directions, within which Heaven, Earth, and all things exist. My Mysterious Pass and the Great Void are one; Heaven and Earth are my mind, and true emptiness is my function. The Great Void between Heaven and Earth may be likened to a cauldron, and the Great Void within me therefore also has the meaning of the Qian-Kun furnace and cauldron.”

The great void, vast and boundless space, is taken as the crucible because it contains the Six Directions, encompassing Heaven, Earth, and all things between them. My Mysterious Pass, the pivotal opening spoken of in internal cultivation, is one with the great void: Heaven and Earth are its heart, and true emptiness its function. The great void between Heaven and Earth is like a cauldron; the great void within me is like a furnace. Thus the great void serves as a metaphor for the furnace and cauldron. A cauldron is a vessel for holding things, while a furnace is a vessel for containing fire. In the end, both refer to the place where the ingredients and the timing of the fire are held. Why insist on distinguishing whether it is a furnace or a cauldron?

The verse of praise says: The Dao is formless, yet it can give rise to the myriad things. Though the mind contains all things, it can also return to nothingness. The positions of Qian and Kun, Heaven and Earth, are reversed; Yin and Yang meet and transform. All of this takes place within my body.

Nature and life depend on one another. Taking the great void as the furnace and cauldron, and using it to cook and refine through cultivation, one can follow the same Dao as the sages.

Huiche asked, “What, precisely, are the ingredients in the practice of alchemy?” Master Lei replied, “The ingredients are these: in lower-grade alchemy, they are nasal mucus, saliva, seminal fluid, bodily fluids, blood, and sweat; in middle-grade alchemy, they are Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit); in upper-grade alchemy, they are the spirit, hun, po, and intention. The Primordial Qi, the original breath that existed before Heaven and Earth took shape, is the mother of the elixir, the foundation on which alchemy depends. These all belong to the practices of the Return Elixir, a form of Neidan (internal alchemy), and are matters within this realm of cultivation.”

The cultivation method of our Celestial Immortals school takes Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) as the mother of the Elixir—the foundation from which the Neidan (internal alchemy) Elixir is formed—and the Three Origins as its medicines, the nourishment that sustains it. The mother of the Elixir is used to form it; the medicines warm, nourish, and nurture it.

“Origin” means “great.” The pure, genuine primordial Qi (vital energy) of the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—contains wondrous, inexhaustible powers of transformation. These are the Heavenly Origin, the Earthly Origin, and the Human Origin. Heaven is called Qian, or the Heavenly Origin; Earth is called Kun, or the Earthly Origin. The primordial Qi of all Three Powers is concealed within the Great Void, the formless and silent source. The Three Origins arise from the human heart: Heaven’s heart lies in Earth, Earth’s heart lies in Heaven, and the heart of Heaven and Earth rests in humanity. For this reason, humanity is the most precious of the Three Powers; without people, the meaning of Heaven and Earth as Heaven and Earth could not be made manifest. Human primordial Qi is spread throughout Heaven and Earth and hidden within the Great Void. Thus the patriarch Master Taixu said, “The Human Origin pervades the vast cosmos, and the Three Origins are governed by a single heart.” Cultivators must therefore gather the medicine from within the Great Void and apply the fire phases—the timing and degree of cultivation—within the Mysterious Pass, the opening where the movement of Qi converges in inner cultivation.

Perfected Ziyang said, “The Dao arises from emptiness and nonbeing as a single Qi; that single Qi then gives rise to Yin-Yang.” Here, “emptiness and nonbeing” refers to Wuji. Wuji gives rise to Taiji; when Wuji reaches its utmost point, it is Taiji. They are not two separate things. Taiji divides into the Two Modes, Yin and Yang; in other words, the single Qi transforms into Yin-Yang. Hence the saying: “One Yin and one Yang: this is the Dao.” Yin alone or Yang alone cannot make a complete Yin-Yang. Yin-Yang is the way the Dao manifests its workings.

The text also says, “Yin-Yang arises from the Dao, and the Dao in turn relies on Yin-Yang to bring forth and nurture the myriad things. From this, the myriad things first come into being, gradually become distinct, and each follows the Dao in its own way. Those who understand these words can explain the workings of the Mysterious Pass.”

The Patriarch Niman said, “At one of the twelve two-hour periods of the day, the instant something suddenly stirs is the precelestial Qi—the original vital energy that exists before the postcelestial body takes shape. If a person can gather it in time, it is a supreme treasure.” When practitioners reach a state of profound emptiness and stillness, the primordial Qi of the precelestial realm will naturally appear from the void.

My teacher said, “The precelestial realm spoken of here is not merely a person’s own precelestial Qi, but the primordial Qi of the Supreme Ultimate, the original energy of the cosmos. The Qi that circulates and spreads through the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—can nourish body and mind; the primordial Qi of the Supreme Ultimate can serve as the Mother of the Elixir, the root of alchemical practice. Both are precious medicines. If one cannot grasp emptiness and stillness, or reach a deep and tranquil state through seated meditation, one will gain absolutely nothing.”

The verse of praise says: Make the “ultimate” your guiding principle and nourish yourself with the “origin.” Though they are said to be two kinds, for human beings only one is more beneficial.

Keep these principles firmly in mind, and recollect them in emptiness and stillness. In the midst of the void, grasp at nothing; then countless visions, like showers of flowers, will appear.

Huiche asked, “What is meant by gathering? What is meant by the firing process?”

Master Lei replied, “Gathering can be understood in accordance with the Patriarch Bai’s teaching on sitting upright and entering meditative absorption. Sit with proper posture and calm the spirit. When you reach a deep, indistinct state, the essence of your nature becomes clear and pure, and your pristine original nature is revealed. This is precisely what the Wondrous Scripture of Clarity and Stillness means when it says: ‘If a person can constantly abide in clarity and stillness, all things in Heaven and Earth will return within.’

“The method of cultivation consists only in bringing the mind and spirit to emptiness and utter stillness, then concentrating the spirit and quietly waiting. Let the inner ruler remain motionless and silent. When the moment arrives, the spirit will naturally perceive it; let it rise and descend of its own accord, without mixing in the slightest trace of deliberate thought. Only then does one accord with the wondrous workings. With time, spirit and breath will appear naturally, and body and mind will tend toward harmony. If various signs arise, simply do not become attached to them. Guard them with intention as one broods over and protects an egg; gather in the spirit, and let a single thought settle in stillness, allowing it to proceed naturally.

“The firing process means letting it proceed naturally. Refining and cooking amount to making Qi return within the body and letting the spirit move through it, with the spirit governing the Qi.”

The Dan Jing says, “The true firing times have no fixed measure, and the true great medicine needs no quantity to be reckoned.” It also says, “Nature itself has its true firing times. Simply settle the mind and spirit, regulate the breath, and let things follow their natural course.”

The Perfected One Ziyang said, “The Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning gathers the medicine day after day, yet what he gathers is inexhaustible; the Supreme Lord Lao applies the firing times at every moment, and they too are without end.” Heaven and Earth likewise move day after day, and the sun and moon turn ceaselessly, so they endure through billions of eons. If their movement stopped even briefly, Heaven and Earth would be destroyed. Thus, when the scriptures explain the firing times through years, months, days, and hours, they are showing precisely that the firing times are not confined by years, months, days, or hours.

Before the Mysterious Pass—the crucial opening where body and mind come into accord and true Qi is set in motion in Neidan practice—has opened, and before one’s practice has reached genuine emptiness, stillness, and quietude, one must not hastily speak of gathering the medicine. First, cultivate body and mind until they are clear and pure; then it will be easier to enter a state of emptiness, stillness, and quietude. Once there, continue to nourish the Qi mechanism within it, keeping it lively and responsive. “Emptiness and stillness” means quieting the mind and settling one’s nature and disposition. “Ease and vitality” means nourishing the Qi mechanism so that it remains lively and flows freely.

This practice is needed not only while sitting in meditation. When handling affairs and interacting with others, one must also keep the nature and mind empty and still, while allowing the Qi mechanism to remain lively. Cultivate this discipline until it becomes fully familiar. As Cheng Hao said, “At rest, one is settled; in motion, one is settled.” Only then can movement and stillness become one. The practice will mature of itself, and one will truly have attained great accomplishment.

When practice has indeed reached a state with no distinction between inside and outside and no barriers or boundaries, the Mysterious Pass has opened, and the medicine will arise naturally. Only then is the medicine real. Otherwise, what one gathers remains an ordinary illusion belonging to the acquired realm and cannot be called “medicine.” The medicine arises and can be gathered and refined only when the opening has appeared and the time is ripe. Then, by means of the medicine, the ordinary substance is transformed, and only then can that transformation be complete.

A verse of praise says: The Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning gathers the medicine; the Supreme Lord Lao tends the furnace. Their wondrous workings follow nature, and Heaven and Earth move in accord with me.

Movement and stillness begin to merge as one, and the realm of Wuji (Limitless) unfolds. Only upon attaining this exceedingly subtle state can the mortal body be transformed.

Huiche asked, “When the scripture speaks of ‘stillness’ and ‘wisdom’ as being like water and fire, does it mean the stillness and wisdom we have been discussing? And what do ‘acting’ and ‘stopping,’ as advance and retreat, mean?”

Master Lei replied, “Stillness belongs to water, and wisdom to fire. Stillness means settling the mind and spirit; wisdom means bringing spirit and mind into harmony. Spirit resides in the heart, and spirit belongs to fire. When spirit is mixed with all kinds of thoughts, it is the cognitive spirit, governed by everyday awareness and stray thoughts; this is called ordinary fire. Spirit that does not cling to outward forms is the original spirit, pure and true in its nature. It belongs to true fire, which is the light of wisdom. Stillness and wisdom in practice are, in fact, two functions of a single whole. To settle the mind and spirit without clinging to outward forms is called awakened awareness. To quiet the mind within and illuminate it with the light of wisdom is to awaken while maintaining a steady, clear illumination. To use water to regulate fire is to remain awake throughout that illumination. The difference between Buddhism and Daoism lies, broadly speaking, only in whether the movement of Qi is flexible.

“‘Acting’ and ‘stopping’ refer to advancing the fire and withdrawing the talisman—the terms used in Neidan practice for advancing and gathering in one’s effort. Applying effort at this stage is called advancing the fire. Reaching a state of complete absorption, in which self and mind are forgotten and spirit and mind become one, is called withdrawing the talisman. This does not refer only to advancing the fire and withdrawing the talisman in the management of the firing times. If one can truly reach this state of complete absorption, the foundation of the Way of transformation through blending is laid. As for advancing the fire and withdrawing the talisman, the mysterious workings of Heaven will naturally reveal themselves; they cannot be fathomed in words. When practice reaches that point, subtle awareness will arise of its own accord.”

The verse says: Stillness and wisdom give rise to one another, and awakened illumination remains ever-bright. Water regulates fire, and all returns at last to Great Clarity, the realm of pure stillness and lucidity.

The foundation of transformation through blending can thus be established naturally. Its subtlety cannot be spoken of or named.

Huiche asked, “The ancient texts on the Elixir all say, ‘When Kan and Li mingle their fire, they return to Great Clarity…’”

The foundation of cultivating the state of undifferentiated transformation lies in allowing things to proceed naturally and supporting their movement. It cannot be compared or discussed in words, and its subtleties are difficult to name.

Huizhe asked, “Ancient alchemical scriptures all speak of the ‘union of Kan and Li’—using the meeting of water and fire to symbolize the harmonizing of Yin and Yang. They also speak of the ‘union of Qian and Kun,’ using the joining of Heaven and Earth to symbolize the coming together of Yin and Yang. I wonder whether this occurs in the cultivation of the celestial immortals?”

Master Lei replied, “The union of Kan and Li is spoken of in the Three Vehicles of cultivation, though it is not necessarily a settled doctrine. As for the union of Qian and Kun, my teacher said: ‘A person who cultivates the Dao reaches a state of utter emptiness and stillness, with a sincere and single-minded heart, and naturally enters a deep, settled stillness. Suddenly, the subtle mechanism of cultivation stirs, and one at once feels empty, numinous, and bright, vast and boundless. As soon as one becomes aware of it, one must immediately gather it in; then one returns to stillness. After a while, a breath of Qi naturally descends into the Yellow Court, an important region within the body in Neidan practice. This is the spontaneous restoration of prenatal Qi, which then circulates through the Six Directions. I abide at rest within it, holding only a single, true intention. My breath feels fresh, my spirit clear, and my body and mind at ease. After a while, a breath of Qi naturally descends into the Yellow Court. This is the spontaneous restoration of prenatal Qi, circulating through the Six Directions; I abide at rest within it, holding only a single, true intention, my breath fresh, my spirit clear, and my body and mind at ease. This is called the return of the Golden Elixir through liquid gold.’ In truth, this process has no form or image. It reveals only the empty, bright, numinous subtlety of one’s nature: Qian and Kun unite, and one returns to the wholeness of Taiji.”

The verse of praise says: To unite Qian and Kun is to seek their union with utmost sincerity. After entering deep, settled stillness, gather in the numinous light as soon as it appears.

After a while, a breath of primordial Qi is restored and flows naturally. Leaving only the pure, true intention is what is called the return of the Golden Elixir through liquid gold.

Huizhe asked, “In general, why must someone who cultivates the Dao have companions on the Way?”

Master Lei replied, “The companions on the Way mentioned here are teachers and friends. People differ greatly in their innate endowments and in their progress in cultivation, so they should discuss things with one another regularly, seek guidance earnestly, and think through how it applies in practice. This benefits everyone. If one only cultivates alone and seeks no explanation, the ancients called it ‘walking in darkness’ or ‘blind cultivation,’ and it is unlikely to lead to much achievement.

“The deeper the cultivation, the more refined the work; the more refined it becomes, the more necessary it is to discuss it with one another. Even a slight deviation can lead to one mistake after another. At such times, one needs a clear-sighted teacher and helpful friends to guide one’s practice…”

The deeper and more refined one’s cultivation becomes, the more carefully it must be discussed and examined. A slight deviation can lead to one mistake after another. At such times, guidance and analysis from an enlightened teacher and helpful friends can keep one from straying and allow one’s practice to advance steadily. Thus, the Chan school values the sharp rebuke that awakens a student, while Daoist traditions emphasize pointing the way to insight. Confucians place particular importance on learning through mutual exchange. The Book of Changes says, “The exemplary person advances learning through discussion and practice with friends.” The Book of Rites says, “To study alone, without friends, is to have narrow understanding and limited learning.” Even Confucius, a great sage, worried that learning might go undiscussed; and Zixia, one of Confucius’s foremost disciples, believed that living apart from others meant never hearing them point out one’s faults. How can those who cultivate the Dao do without companions on the Way?

But if people do not apply themselves earnestly and merely gather to socialize and talk, spending all day discussing abstruse ideas and commenting on past and present, their talk becomes what is called “verbal Chan.” What benefit could that bring to the cultivation of body and mind, or to learning? Cultivating the Dao certainly calls for the help of companions on the Way, but more important still is the constant refining of oneself. People gather with those who are alike and form groups according to their differences; the crucial matter is one’s own choice, not other people.

A verse of praise says: “Stones from other mountains can be used to polish jade. Friends help one another, offering timely counsel. It is like gold being smelted, or like someone lifting a lamp to light the way in darkness. By keeping company with people of noble character, one can rise above the ordinary.”

Huiche asked, “The ancients withdrew into a warm chamber to nurture their cultivation and faced a wall for nine years. Is there sound reason behind this method of practice?”

Master Lei replied, “This is a method used after first cultivating life and then cultivating nature. It is done out of concern that the work on nature may not yet be pure and that the work on life may still have deficiencies.”

Wuyuanzi said, “The ‘nine years’ refers to the ‘Nine Returns,’ the process of reversal and refinement in internal alchemy. ‘Facing the wall’ does not mean sitting upright in meditation. It means keeping the mind wholly undistracted, gathering the spirit, and holding to the One. One must cultivate until not a trace of impurity remains in the heart, as though a sheer cliff thousands of fathoms high stood before one: it is seen but not perceived. All methods return to emptiness and stillness, where the infant is transformed in the nurturing stillness.”

The late master said, “This method seems safer to practice after the Elixir has been restored, knotted, and nurtured to completion. But it consumes an enormous amount of energy and cannot be interrupted. How many people, past or present, have been able to manage it? It is better to practice the Supreme Heart School (Taishang Xinzong), a method whose central aim is to illuminate the mind and perceive one’s nature. Fully awakening to one’s original nature is also fully awakening to life. Gather the spirit with undivided focus, day after day, month after month, year after year. If, step by step, you can return to emptiness (gradually letting go of attachment to the body and external things) and reach a natural state, you can leave the body when you wish and transform when you wish. You will already have reached the state in which emptiness is shattered, and be free to act or withdraw as you choose. Why, then, enter a meditation chamber and face the wall?”

According to the master, this is precisely what Patriarch Bai meant by saying, “Whether I live or die is up to me.” The key is to be master of oneself. It is enough, then, to cultivate with utmost sincerity and without interruption.

The verse of praise says, “The essential point is to awaken to one’s original nature; why ask whether one must face the wall? The Supreme Heart School grounds the Way of life in one’s nature. Step by step, return to emptiness; accumulate practice at every moment. Let life and death transform as they will—the secret is to be master of oneself.”

Huiche asked, “The ancients all say that, once cultivation is complete, the crown of the head must split open for the Yang Spirit (the pure-Yang consciousness formed through cultivation) to emerge. Is that really so?” Master Lei replied, “This is called guiding the Original Yang (directing the body’s Original Yang Qi). All Three Vehicles (methods of cultivation at different levels) speak of it. But even if you are already able to emerge from the body, you must be able to emerge and yet not emerge. Then continue cultivating until the spirit is refined and returns to emptiness, emptiness is refined and merges with the Dao, and the Dao is refined and merges with nature. That is why people speak of setting up the furnace and cauldron anew (reestablishing the foundations of body and mind used in cultivation) and creating Heaven and Earth again (reconstructing the Yin-Yang framework of cultivation). Thus the Perfected One Ziyang said, ‘Light appearing behind the crown of the head is still an illusion; clouds rising beneath the feet do not yet make one an immortal.’ Only upon reaching the state in which emptiness is shattered has the final and most crucial step been completed. If one cultivates in this way, nature and life are split into two parts, and this additional work becomes necessary.”

My practice of the methods of the Celestial Immortals begins with cultivating the mind and nature. At each stage, I put into practice what that stage requires. Gradually, I refine all that is illusory and contrived until nothing remains to be refined, returning it to emptiness. Then I bring my cultivation into accord with the Dao of Nature. Only then is it truly complete. There is no need first to form a “Yang Spirit” (a spiritual body that takes shape through cultivation) and then shatter it.

The key to this method is to let the noble, upright Qi within oneself fill the cosmos and merge with the Great Void (boundless emptiness), so that there is no longer any distinction between coming and going. “Vast and unyielding” means nourishing this Qi through the Way of integrity and allowing nothing to harm it; then it fills the space between Heaven and Earth. Thus, the highest method of cultivation is refining the form—that is, using the refinement of the form to refine the spirit.