《碧苑坛经》Vol. 2

Have you seen the immortals? Those who teach various oral formulas are also people of the world. With ordinary eyes and mortal bodies, they merely recite a few passages from the Elixir Scriptures (classics on alchemy and the cultivation of the Dao) and commit trivial details to memory. This is called “swallowing stones”: like swallowing a stone, they cannot digest it or savor its meaning. They are no different from ordinary people, so how could they rise above the world and transcend the common lot?

Today you have received the Initial Perfection Precepts (the Daoist precepts for beginners), and you have developed the intention to recognize and repent your faults. This shows that your original true nature is still present. Why not change your usual false thoughts into a true heart, false notions into genuine intentions, and false appearances into true ones? Open your hearts and repent sincerely. From the day you receive the precepts, you are called disciples of the Initial Perfection Precepts.

The Initial Perfection Precepts require you to observe the “Four Great Deportments”—the proper conduct of daily activities such as walking, standing, sitting, and lying down—and to maintain a dignified appearance. These precepts regulate the bearing of body and mind; they have no direct connection with realizing the Dharma Body (true nature beyond physical form), nor do they concern the cultivation of meditative concentration and wisdom. Because your minds and natures are restless and find it difficult to become still, the Ten Precepts were established to discipline body and mind. If you practice in accordance with the precepts, body and mind can become settled, after which you may proceed to receive and uphold the Middle Ultimate Precepts.

Everyone, the Zhongji Precepts (the intermediate-level precepts) teach the practice of meditative stillness. They differ from the Chuzhen Precepts (the precepts for those first entering the Dao): the Chuzhen Precepts emphasize keeping the precepts, the Zhongji Precepts entering stillness, and the Celestial Immortal Precepts cultivating wisdom. Out of compassion for all beings, the Heavenly Worthy established the three disciplines of precepts, stillness, and wisdom to regulate and settle body, heart, and mind. This is a precious path for transcending the ordinary world and attaining the wondrous Dao of the Golden Elixir. Beyond precepts, stillness, and wisdom, there is no other path.

Though external methods of cultivation number eighty-four thousand, none lies beyond stillness and wisdom. Whether taking divine elixirs, refining and nourishing liquid gold and the returned elixir, ascending to heaven in broad daylight, rising to heaven with one’s entire family, or practicing such immortal arts as supernatural transformations, liberation through the corpse, instant transformation while standing, death while seated, and entering another body through rebirth, none can unsettle the radiance of stillness and wisdom. When that radiance illuminates these powers and arts, they appear as clearly as images in a bright mirror set before a hall. Their forms are revealed as they come and go. Thus these methods remain within stillness and wisdom; they cannot go beyond them.

The “center” in “Central Pivot” (Zhongji) evokes the still, majestic center where the hub of the Big Dipper lies. The “pivot” points to the crucial relationship in which the South Pole governs life and the North Pole governs death. The profound workings of life and death both depend on the Dipper’s handle turning unseen, guiding the subtle pivot. Together, the words “Central Pivot” symbolize command over Heaven and Earth and mastery of the key to life and death.

The “center” spoken of here is neither inside nor outside; it is neither to the left nor to the right, neither in front nor behind. It is impartial, with neither excess nor deficiency. It is the “center” of the Book of Documents’ phrase “sincerely hold fast to the center,” the center that brings one to balance and harmony. It is also the “center” of the Dao De Jing’s teaching that “too many words bring one to an impasse; better to hold to the center.” And it is the center of the noble person’s middle way: standing upright and acting without partiality.

Names such as “Mysterious Pearl,” “Millet Grain,” “Mani Śarīra,” and “Great Ultimate Golden Elixir” all point to the same thing: the subtle original nature, empty, numinous, and clear, which is never obscured.

Everyone, what does it mean to maintain stillness and wisdom in equal measure—that is, to cultivate calm and insight together and keep them in balance?

Everyone, your glimmer of innate awareness has been bound and obscured since time without beginning by all kinds of forces: the entanglements of the three karmas of body, speech, and mind (actions and thoughts); contamination by the six sense objects of sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, and mental phenomena; confusion by the seven emotions; disturbance by the six desires; the taint of the three poisons of greed, anger, and delusion; and the oppression of the ten demons (various obstacles that unsettle the mind during cultivation). These forces secretly obscure and steal your innate awareness, leaving you unsure whether to advance or retreat, afraid both to die and to truly come alive. As a result, you cannot perceive the Way of Heaven or grasp its workings.

Everyone, this glimmer of innate awareness is a precious treasure of the Dharma. It can be cultivated only by going against worldly habits, never by following their course. If you follow those habits, your mind will be turned by external things and circumstances, drawing obstacles, strange afflictions, and calamities upon you. You will fall into the cycle of rebirth, drifting and sinking through the four modes of birth and the six realms of existence (the ways beings are born and the states of life within rebirth). Those who have received the Zhongji precepts (a form of Daoist precepts) should cultivate by going against the current. This means not letting external things and circumstances lead you. Then obstacles and calamities will find it difficult to assail you, and you can leave the cycle of rebirth and transcend its drifting, sinking course.

What, then, does it mean to follow the current? In worldly life, marrying and taking concubines, raising children, pursuing status and wealth, amassing property and buying land, wearing fine clothes, craving sexual pleasure, taking life, and satisfying the appetite with delicacies—all these serve the body’s enjoyment. The body is temporarily formed from the four elements of earth, water, fire, and wind; it is only a transient shape. A fetus and a life come into being when parents unite, their Jing and Qi meet, blood and flesh coalesce, and consciousness enters the womb. The human body takes shape through the transformation of Yin and Yang Qi, but it is ultimately impermanent and returns at last to dust. Only one’s deeds of merit and fault do not depend on the body, yet they determine whether the Dharma body (the spiritual ground described in cultivation) experiences suffering or joy.

Ah! You do not believe in ghosts and spirits or karmic retribution. Instead, you say that the Dharma-body—the spiritual ground beyond the physical body—exists only within the flesh, and that when the body dies, the Dharma-body vanishes too. You believe that when a person dies, their vital energy returns to emptiness and immediately disperses. If so, where do the destinations of Heaven, Hell, hungry ghosts, and animals come from? And how could the Dharma-body undergo retribution?

Let me ask you this: if a person’s breath disperses into emptiness after death, why do their descendants make offerings to their deceased parents at the seasonal festivals? If the departed person’s vital energy is not taken by the officials of the underworld for examination, then no one would be judged for the good or evil they did in life, for whether they were virtuous, or for debts, scheming, murder, theft, and other offenses. And that vital energy would naturally never return to receive the offerings made by descendants in this world.

If the dead do not return to receive offerings, then ancient books such as the Rites of Zhou should not record sacrificial prayers, vessels, rites, and ceremonies. Confucius, the great sage, should not have said to serve the dead as one serves the living, to treat the departed as one treats those still here, and to perform sacrifices with sincere reverence, as though the spirits were present before us. Confucius also said that when people fast, purify themselves, dress properly, and conduct a sacrifice, the spirits seem to be above them and also to their left and right. The Book of Songs, too, says: “The spirits descend; none can fathom them. King Wen is above, shining in the heavens.”

You see, the ancients passed down sayings such as “as though the spirits were above” and “King Wen is above.” This shows that people truly held within their hearts a reverent sincerity toward the arrival of ghosts and spirits. The sages Zhou Gong and Confucius must therefore have understood the nature of ghosts and spirits when they established sacrificial prayers, vessels, rites, and ceremonies and taught them to generations for centuries to come. How could sages speak falsely or invent strange tales?

These days, when scholar-officials die, they are sometimes posthumously granted official titles or promoted in rank. If a person’s vital energy disperses at death and they have no awareness, then these honors have been generously bestowed—but who can enjoy the golden seal, imperial edict, and imperial favor? If you say that ghosts and spirits exist when people enjoy blessings but not when they suffer punishment, that only shows that the human mind remains unenlightened and the spirit has yet to awaken.

Some wicked and foolish people think only of indulging in wine and sex, their minds clouded by wealth. They do not reflect on the causes of karmic retribution after death. They recognize only the life sustained by blood and breath before their eyes, and insist on reciting a few lines of verse: “Do not dwell on the endless troubles that may come after death; first, finish the cup of wine before you.” Yet they refuse to recite another line: “When people die, they take nothing with them; only their karma follows them to the underworld.”

Everyone should understand that karma is broadly of three kinds.

The first is unwholesome karma. It includes all kinds of evil deeds whose consequences entangle one without end: every deed has a cause and brings a corresponding result. Examples include disbelieving in spirits and gods, showing no reverence for Heaven and Earth, fearing no imperial law, being disloyal to the ruler, and failing to honor one’s parents; violating moral principles and damaging human relationships; slandering the sages; killing, stealing, and engaging in sexual misconduct; and acting deceitfully and cruelly, running wild, frightening one’s family, and bullying the people of one’s community. According to the scripture, such a person will fall into hell after death and endure every kind of suffering in different hells. Later, the person will be reborn as an animal. When the karmic retribution of that birth has run its course, the person will be reborn as a human being, perhaps with incomplete features, dull and confused, unable to manage ordinary affairs, despised and looked down upon, and employed in menial service. In time, the person may become a beggar, covered in sores, filthy and lice-ridden, without enough food or clothing, and tormented by hunger and cold. After dying in the wilderness, the body will be devoured by ants or dragged away by dogs, while the solitary spirit sinks once more into hell.

The second is wholesome karma. Such people are intelligent, upright, honest, and fair; they live in harmony with relatives and friends and in peace with their community. They honor their parents and the spirits, pay respect to Heaven and Earth, respect rulers and teachers, and care for their friends. They cultivate themselves and restrain their desires: they do not covet wealth or become infatuated with beauty, they do not disrupt human relationships, and they act properly and with care. Monks who practice in the mountains and old Daoist masters who dwell in caves also belong to this category if they are content with a simple life and endure humiliation, but their meditative stability is not yet secure and their practice is not yet complete. The scripture says that after death they will be reborn as human beings, perhaps becoming officials, people of high standing, or respected teachers, and may enjoy wealth, status, long life, peace, and splendor.

The third is pure karma. Practitioners aspire to the path of the sages and worthies, hoping to become immortals or Buddhas. They harbor wholesome thoughts, speak wholesome words, do wholesome deeds, draw near to good people, walk in good places, and use wholesome things. They are steady and dignified in character, do not act rashly, and do not let their thoughts wander aimlessly. They aim for a clear and tranquil mind. Through sustained practice, the original spirit (the fundamental spirit cultivated in practice) becomes settled and abides continually in inner realms of cultivation referred to in the scripture as the Crimson Chamber, the Yellow Court, and the Golden Palace and Jade Hall. At this point, all concerns and entanglements cease, and every thought falls away, leaving only true spiritual nature. To forget the body, external things, circumstances, and clever contrivances is called “stability”—that is, calming the mind and entering meditative absorption.

The scripture says that this state of absorption is extraordinary: it is the realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), where the spirit is empty yet clear and undeluded. From above, one transcends the thirty-six heavens; from below, one sees the seventy-two lands. One roams freely beyond the three realms and moves within the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). In absorption, all is deep and still, as though Heaven and Earth were turning and returning to chaos, with all things blended into a single Qi (vital energy). It is neither Heaven, Earth, nor humanity, and cannot be explained in words or thought. Suddenly, divine light appears and innate wisdom wells up: pure Qi divides to form Heaven, turbid Qi divides to form Earth, and the principle of harmony takes form as the Dharma body. Wisdom extends throughout the three realms and shines into the hidden depths. Nothing escapes its perception; nothing is unknown in its coming and going. The mind is free of all burdens, obscuring veils, and defilements. Celestial dragons, ghosts and spirits, demons, and monsters all submit to this realm. Even the King of Hell dares not speak when he sees it, while the ox-headed yakshas (underworld guards) raise their fists and clasp their hands in respect. The person’s name no longer appears in the register of life and death, making it possible to live forever in the world. They can also expound the Dao and deliver others, travel in spirit and ascend through transformation, and ultimately enter the realm of clear emptiness, ascend to pay court to the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning, and be forever freed from the cycle of rebirth.

Everyone, the key to transcending the world and understanding Heaven’s secrets lies in the movement and stillness of the true heart. When the heart reaches great stillness, this is called the power of concentration; true concentration brings forth the light of wisdom. If you do not first quiet false thoughts, steady the spirit, and regulate the breath, how can you reach profound concentration? If you cannot remain calm and clear, how can you enter concentration? And without entering concentration, how can wisdom arise?

Everyone, when the heart becomes empty, the spirit can settle; when the spirit settles, its radiance appears. If you have concentration without wisdom, you become a Yin spirit, which is inferior to a Yang spirit. Wisdom must therefore arise within concentration. Wisdom is the Dharma Body, while concentration is the foundation of cultivation.

Concentration is where one finds stability; precepts are the path of cultivation; wisdom enables growth. All things, circumstances, and affairs in the world are merely passing visitors. When concentration and wisdom give rise to one another, and you enter the gate of wondrous mysteries, the inner sovereign spirit and wisdom are continually nourished and filled, shining forth with radiance. Then you can respond to all things without becoming entangled, transform worldly circumstances without being confused by them, and transcend Yin-Yang, life and death, and the cycle of rebirth.

Everyone, first understand the difference between sin and blessing, and the principle of karmic retribution. Then carry out each precept as prescribed, without daring to violate even the slightest one. Through prolonged contemplation, clarity and stillness will come naturally. Only then can you quiet the heart, observe within, and enter concentration. In concentration, your original nature is complete and bright; the light of wisdom shines clearly, and the spirit and Qi suddenly open into awakened understanding. Then mountains, rivers, and the earth are all within you, and the arising and passing away of all things are contained in a single thought. Starting from the inner sovereign’s spiritual clarity, you can grasp the essentials of cultivation and no longer fall into the cycle of rebirth.

The practice of the “Central Character” cannot be carried out for you even by your father or son, and neither spirits nor ghosts can know it. Each of you can cultivate it only through your own effort. I have set up a ladder reaching to Heaven, but I do not know who will climb it; I have launched a raft to cross toward the Great Dao, but I do not know who will board it. Listen to my verse:

“The river of desire stretches wide without end; few can cross it.

The sea of suffering is vast; few find a bridge to liberation.

Everyone, quickly uphold the three hundred precepts;

Cultivate concentration and wisdom at ease, and you will leave the waves behind.”

Everyone, since you have vowed to cultivate the Dao (the Way), you should resolve to become true cultivators of the Dao. First, you must clearly and thoroughly distinguish the true from the false, and only then devote yourselves to practice and cultivation. Make every effort to cast off what is false and insincere and return to what is true; this is the duty every practitioner should fulfill.

Listen, everyone. I’ll begin by speaking of a “false” body so that you may recognize and cultivate what is real. The body you have is only a temporary illusory form; in the end, it will decay and pass away. The six sense faculties—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, through which we perceive the world and form thoughts—will eventually be destroyed. The six consciousnesses, the acts of knowing that arise from those faculties, will ultimately return to nothing. As long as there is breath in a person’s throat, they can do many things. But once impermanence arrives, all is over.

Have you never seen people like this? Born tall and sturdy, with handsome features and an imposing bearing, they are eloquent, clever, and resourceful, full of skill and cunning. They can write, are strong, and excel at martial arts. Some become high officials or fearsome generals; others are talented performers or capable specialists. Some trade for profit and compete for fame; others covet wealth and status, amass possessions, and build prosperous households.

Their halls are filled with beautiful women who play instruments, sing, dance, and attend to them. Guests crowd the steps, coming and going in a steady round of social visits. They have gold and silver enough to rival the stars of the Northern Dipper, and treasures piled as high as Southern Mountain. They wear brocade and eat lavish meals, with delicacies at every sitting. They make friends with bold and chivalrous men, observing elaborate courtesies wherever they go. When they tire of an aging wife, they cast aside the old and seek someone new. They keep a crowd of concubines, heedless that their own Jing and Qi have already waned. Though they possess a great estate and ten thousand acres of fertile land, they still seek to make the family fortune more secure. Their children are bright and accomplished, yet even the highest rank in government does not satisfy them.

They busy themselves day and night, absorbed in sensual pleasures, with desires that are never fulfilled. Their bodies grow weary and their spirits exhausted. Heat, dampness, wind, and cold invade them; Yin-Yang and Qi and blood fall out of balance. In their ceaseless striving, their spirit gradually scatters. Disease after disease takes hold, and in the end no one escapes aging, illness, and suffering. Calamities arrive one after another; fatigue and weakness wear down body and mind. Medicines such as ginseng and poria cannot cure them, and appeals to Heaven and Earth bring no relief. Their sufferings are too many to recount. At last, their final breath leaves them, and they enter the underworld.

The person who once looked so distinguished is soon someone others cover their noses to avoid. The one who once commanded such awe has only a face turned upward after closing their eyes. Their limbs are folded into the coffin, and their likeness survives only in a portrait. Their children cannot die in their place, and their wives and concubines cannot accompany them. Before the bones have even grown cold, the living have already begun to pursue their own interests: brothers fight over the division of the estate, while wives and concubines hide away valuables. A son begins calculating how he will live from then on; if there is no son, someone thinks of remarrying.

The carriages and horses at the gate grow fewer, just as the saying goes: “While a person is alive, affection remains.” The household servants begin to steal. As the saying goes, when a man’s power declines, even his servants bully him. The gates and walls crumble, with no one to tend them; the family fortune declines, and few take any notice. The wife forms another attachment, the children fail to make good, and each person looks after their own future.

Once a person has died, who has ever come back to life? Who has ever returned after leaving this world? We are born empty-handed, and we die carrying nothing away. The flesh is buried in the earth, and one’s reputation will eventually fade. But good and evil each follow their own course, and in the end everyone must bear the corresponding consequences.

Everyone should understand that although the visible bodies and things before us are illusory, they are not meaningless. The human spirit is real. It once pursued family estates, wealth and status, wives and concubines, children and grandchildren, glory, and riches. Now that a person has died and the spirit has returned to the netherworld, how could it continue to enjoy any of these?

The causes of good and evil, the consequences of sin and blessing, and the results of suffering and joy truly follow us like a shadow follows the body. None of the suffering borne by the body or the consequences of sinful deeds can be escaped. Therefore, everyone should regard the flesh body lightly and value the Dharma body—the pure nature attained through cultivating the Dao. Use the body, which exists only temporarily, to cultivate your true nature; cherish what is true and relinquish what is illusory, so that you may leave the sea of suffering.

Yet without the flesh body, there is no means of cultivation. If you do not cultivate, the spirit can hardly be master of itself and may enter the cycle of rebirth in the Six Realms—the six destinations through which beings pass according to their karma. Then liberation will be all the harder to attain. Since we have already obtained human bodies and entered the Dao, we should diligently cultivate the truth while our awareness remains clear, seeking liberation from the cycle of rebirth.

How should we cultivate? Everyone should purify the external things encountered by the Six Roots—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—and harmonize the five viscera and the Five Qi, the vital energies associated with them, so that the mind and spirit may abide peacefully in the Lingtai, the dwelling place of the mind and spirit. Then neither external demons nor inner disturbances can harm us. At the same time, we should do many good deeds and uproot the sources of sinful karma.

There are two paths to cultivating and attaining the Dao: one is true and the other false, and one involves action—deliberately applying methods and clinging to outward forms—while the other is Wuwei (non-action), which does not cling to forms and follows nature. The Diamond Sutra says, “All conditioned things are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows, like dew or a flash of lightning.” The Qingjing Jing says, “Living beings cannot attain the true Dao because they have deluded minds.” From this we can see that methods involving deliberate action in cultivating the Dao are not ultimate.

Some schools manipulate Jing and Qi, regulate the breath, and guide Qi, hoping to prolong life, grow young again, and live forever. They cultivate by clinging to outward forms. Others speak of raising lead and lowering mercury—using lead and mercury as metaphors for alchemical substances or changes between Yin and Yang—setting up a furnace and crucible to refine substances, taking elixirs, swallowing talismans, or consuming Qi. All these seek the true Dao through material methods, and are still forms of cultivation involving deliberate action. How could such methods enable people to illuminate the mind and see their true nature, settle their nature and life, and thereby escape the cycle of rebirth? In the end, none of them can take one beyond life and death.

Everyone, to cultivate the true life through this illusory body, we must first earnestly investigate the great matter of life and death and clearly understand where the true path lies. It is right within a single thought: when you follow external circumstances, you are carried along by them; when you go against them, you take charge for yourself.

The human body will eventually die, whether or not it is cultivated. Even if it lives a thousand years, it must ultimately return to dust. Why cling to it? Whatever has form will be destroyed; whatever begins will end; whatever comes together will part; whatever grows will decline. Since the body is born, naturally it will also die.

When I speak of transcending life and death, I do not mean making the physical body immortal. I mean treating the body as a temporary dwelling and using it to cultivate one’s “Heavenly Mandate Dharma Body”—one’s inner true nature and the source of life. Those who do not understand this principle cling to outward appearances and actually hope to keep their flesh-and-blood bodies intact and deathless forever. This is truly laughable. The way I speak of transcending life and death lies in the true mind within the body: cultivate your thoughts and actions so they are not controlled by deluded thoughts. When deluded thoughts cease, the Dharma Body appears. When the Dharma Body becomes still, the celestial mechanism—the inner vitality and spiritual clarity—stirs into motion. When it stirs, true radiance appears. Cultivation aims to bring this true light to perfection, so use the body to do many good deeds.

Good deeds, too, can be genuine or false. Clinging to the outward appearance of good deeds makes them false; only when you do not cling to appearances are they truly good. Consider how the Tathagata gave alms, accumulated merit, taught the Dharma, and cultivated the Way without clinging to outward appearances. Precisely because he did not cling, he could transcend the secular world; and only by transcending it could he go beyond life and death. The Scripture on Clarity and Stillness says, “One of highest De does not possess De.” This means that a person of supreme virtue does not think of themselves as virtuous or cling to virtue. If you always act with liberation in mind, how can you truly be liberated and transcend life and death? At most, you will live a few more years and gain some good fortune. When that good fortune is spent, you will still be unable to escape the cycle of rebirth.

Everyone, I urge you to follow the teachings of the Most High—the Daoist honorific for Laozi: “By placing the self behind, the self is preserved; by putting the self last, the self comes first.” When you put yourself second, you can preserve yourself; when you do not compete to be first, you can take the lead. In this way, the physical body may die while the true nature remains undying.

Do not become narrowly fixated on methods such as stirring and guiding Jing and Qi, opening the body’s apertures, or circulating the blood and channels. Nor should you focus solely on prolonging life, dispelling illness, strengthening the body, and making the physical form robust, comfortable, and carefree, while forgetting your true nature and neglecting it year after year. Know this: if one day the underworld’s officials suddenly come to seize you, where will your Dharma Body be? The physical body will be buried in the earth, and in the end all will be empty. I urge you to practice diligently and quietly the work of subduing the deluded mind and cultivating the mind’s nature, and to see your original nature as soon as you can. If you can do this, why worry that your life cannot be securely established?

Everyone, let me remind you again: the physical body is like a house, and the Dharma Body is the master who lives inside it. If the master possesses a treasure within, why worry that the house cannot be made secure? But if the master falls ill, brings calamity upon himself, and is taken away, then even if the house has been carefully repaired, who will be left to live in it?

To put it plainly, the physical body is a rented house, not one you own. After the master leaves, the body will ultimately return to the earth, and the Four Great Elements—earth, water, fire, and wind, the four basic elements that make up the body—will each return to their source. If you can steadily cultivate the true Dharma Body that does not cling to appearances, why worry that the physical body will have no proper resting place?

Everyone, I have a few simple verses. Please listen:

This physical body is a house in which the Dharma-body—the true body that embodies the Great Dao—resides. When the heart within is clear and pure, radiance naturally appears without. If the master cultivates blessings and wisdom, why worry that the house is not splendid enough? To cultivate the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Dao, one must first cast off delusion; to seek the true Dharma, one must see through illusory teachings. Do not praise yourself or cling to outward appearances. Only through the dual cultivation of nature and life can you transcend impermanence. Quiet your mind and seek liberation; let go of the illusory physical body, and your true nature will reveal itself.

Those who cling to life and fear death will still die in the end. How can you attain the true Dao by clinging to outward appearances in your practice? The Tathagata, an honorific for the Buddha, once gave up part of his body, and the Jade Emperor once endured humiliation. Through countless kalpas—vast stretches of time—they gave up their bodies and lives. They also relinquished their kingdoms and withdrew to the mountains and forests for eight hundred periods of ten days. If practitioners cling to this false body, they will find it hard to leave the dust of the world even after ten thousand kalpas and a thousand lifetimes.

Do not waste your thoughts or exhaust your spirit and strength: all things with form must eventually perish. If you lose sight of your true nature, the unchanging reality, you will sink into the boundless sea of suffering, with no way to seek liberation. Alas, how pitiable! Clinging to one falsehood within another, finding falsehood everywhere—how can you attain the true Dao by practicing Quanzhen this way? After enduring the sorrows of birth, aging, illness, and death, how will your death differ from that of ordinary people? You wear the yellow cap and feathered robe in vain; have you ever understood the key to life and death? You roam the world for food and clothing, burdened by sin and karma, and in the end you turn to dust.

If you do not understand that sin and blessing are both empty in their original nature, the cycle of birth and death will not cease. If you have not yet realized that the roots of truth and falsehood both lie within you, who can open the way to luminous wisdom?

Everyone, please contemplate this carefully for yourselves: life and death are impermanent, and they come swiftly. The secret practices I have described number three hundred, and include the three hundred subtle precepts of the Central Ultimate Great Precepts. Cultivate your body by these, and your conduct will be upright; cultivate your heart by them, and you will open the way to luminous wisdom.

You should each seriously investigate this for yourselves: human life and death have no fixed timetable, and death can come quickly. The “secret practices” I speak of comprise three hundred rules: the three hundred subtle precepts of the Central Ultimate Precepts. By keeping the precepts and cultivating the body, one can make one’s conduct upright; by cultivating the mind, one can dispel delusive thoughts. Inner cultivation can bring one to the realm of sage-like clarity, while outward action can accomplish the works of a king. In this way, one can transcend the ordinary world and attain the fruit of pure emptiness, as well as rescue others from suffering and put an end to the impulse that keeps them bound to the cycle of life and death.

The most essential thing is the word “secret.” Without discretion, one cannot preserve one’s true nature; without preserving one’s true nature, the mind cannot become clear; and without a clear mind, one’s nature cannot manifest. So, what does “secret” mean? The sages use it to cleanse the mind, gathering the spirit inward and concealing it in the depths. “Secret” means being exceedingly cautious and alert. Only through painstaking care can one remain concealed and undisclosed. That is secrecy in its highest form.

For anyone who wishes to receive and uphold the Central Ultimate Precepts, the first through the hundredth precepts form the “great spell” for purifying the body. To observe these precepts carefully, one must dispel all restlessness and make body and mind calm and clear; cast off frivolity and cultivate composure. One’s four everyday postures—walking, sitting, standing, and lying down—should all be dignified. Walk along the middle of the path; sit upright rather than perched at the edge of a mat; stand straight without leaning against walls or pillars, bracing oneself on a wall, or bending over a table. When lying down, curl onto one’s side rather than lying on one’s back and snoring loudly. Even if the breath through the nose makes a little sound, steady it. In this way, one cultivates a manner that is respectful and courteous. This is called “outward dignity.”

The hundred and first through the two hundredth precepts form the “great spell” for purifying the mind. Focus your attention and experience how the mind accords with the Dao. Investigate deeply and understand in silence. Let every thought return to what is true and every action accord with reason; do not relax your attention to a single word or phrase. Investigate and understand again and again, observing things outside yourself while also turning your gaze inward. Gradually, completely eliminate thoughts that are unruly and perverse.

Once the true mind is settled, the two hundred and first through the three hundredth precepts form the “great spell” for purifying intention. The workings involved must not be divulged in the slightest: the turning points through which all things wax, wane, and change, and the principles that govern their coming and going, are secretly stored in the Palace of the Mysterious Capital, the hidden depths of the Dao. This state is subtle and mysterious; it cannot be probed through thought or described by names and forms. It can only be experienced through wondrous insight and cannot be conveyed in words. From this comes the supreme and highest wondrous Dao of Wuwei (non-action).

Everyone, the mystery of the transformations of vital energy, and the principles by which things come and go and move through their cycles, lie hidden in the Mysterious Capital—the Daoist realm of the immortals. They are profound and subtle, beyond the reach of thought, and cannot be explained through names and images. They can only be grasped by the heart and spirit; words cannot convey them. Only the supreme and wondrous Dao of Wuwei (non-action) can express them fully.

Everyone, this is the work of secret cultivation and the pursuit of realization of the true Dao. Listen to one more thing I have to say, and remember it carefully: the highest Daoist teachings must never be revealed casually. People cultivate the true Dao to escape the cycle of life and death—is that an ordinary matter? If the secrets of Heaven are not kept hidden, they will be disclosed to those who should not know them. Zhang Ziyang, the Perfected Master revered in Daoism as Zhang Boduan, once passed on the Daoist teachings to unsuitable people and suffered Heaven’s punishment three times. That is why the teachings must not be revealed lightly. And surely those who seek to transcend the cycle of rebirth, leave the mundane world behind, and become Perfected Ones who endure through countless kalpas without decay will incur the wariness of Heaven, Earth, and the spirits, and the reproach of Yin-Yang and the forces of creation. Your practice, which reverses the ordinary course and proceeds against the usual way, also stands in complete opposition to worldly methods. You must keep it secret with care. Otherwise, your six close family relations will disapprove of you, your nine generations of kin will turn against you, your spouse and children will fail to understand you, and your friends will not believe you. These circumstances arise because you have not made a bold and steadfast vow; that is why thoughts of abandoning the Dao take root.

12. Repaying Kindness and Dispelling Calamity

Everyone, since you have already left home to seek release from the mundane world, you should repent and dissolve the karmic ties formed over many lifetimes in worldly life, along with the grudges accumulated through generations. Let them end now and take root no more; only then can you escape the anguish of repaying old debts and retaliating against those who have wronged you.

Yet this approach still belongs to a lower level of cultivation and a view of karmic retribution. It is what people seek when they are trying to flee their debts of grievance, when they are greedy for life and fear death, or when their aspirations are narrow and their abilities limited. Their hearts have not yet become clear, and their inborn nature has not yet emerged. They care only for what lies before them and give no thought to future lives. I will now tell you an example of an outsider to the Dao—someone whose cultivation has strayed from the true path—so that you may understand.

A Daoist who had entered religious life later in life traveled widely to visit teachers and cultivate the Way. Along the way, he met several fellow practitioners. Together they made a vow to build a hermitage and practice on Mount Laoshan in Shandong. Later, because of the turmoil of war, they went down the mountain together and came to the foot of Mount Wangwu in Henan, where each practiced meditation in solitude. Although the six lived together, their aspirations differed, and each followed a different method of cultivation.

After a year, three of them left, leaving only three. The remaining three renewed their vow, devoting themselves to seeking liberation from the world. Later, one of them passed away seated in meditation, a way in which practitioners die while sitting upright. The other two became even more resolute. Before long, the second also passed away in meditation, leaving the Daoist to practice alone.

One day, as he sat in meditation and entered samadhi, his spirit traveled to Mount Tiantai. There he suddenly encountered the fellow practitioner who had passed away most recently. Both were delighted. His companion said, “It is fortunate that I have met someone with whom I share a karmic connection. There is something I must tell you. You should revise the vow you made before.

“When I first vowed to practice, I wanted to repent for the wrongs and enmities I had incurred and attain liberation. But some time ago, my allotted years came to an end. I arrived outside the Three Heavenly Gates, where I was examined. The examiner announced in a loud voice: ‘This person still has unresolved enmities and has not exhausted his karmic trials. His name is not on the Celestial Register, and there is no place for him on the Cinnabar Terrace, where Daoist achievements are recognized and offices for immortals are bestowed. He cannot proceed further. He may go to the Three Origins Administration at Mount Yuntai and take up a post.’

“Just then, a fierce celestial wind and a pure, upright force obscured the Heavenly Gate. I could no longer see it and found myself at the Three Origins Administration. The Three Officials, deities who govern Heaven, Earth, and Water, checked the registers and said: ‘Your aspiration is shallow and your cultivation is low, yet you presume to transcend the world. Since you have been lost without understanding your own error, the post of mountain god at Tongbai Palace on Mount Tiantai is vacant. We will appoint you to serve there provisionally. When a post in the underworld becomes vacant, you will receive a formal appointment.’

“I begged them to give me guidance so that I could continue practicing in secret. The Three Officials kindly told me: ‘When you sit on your meditation cushion, your mind is not yet clear and your scattered thoughts have not been dispelled. You have not seen through the illusory nature of the body, recognized the reality of the innate nature and spirit, or awakened to the truth that emptiness is not empty. You think only of erasing the wrongs accumulated over a thousand lives and settling the enmities formed over generations. You imagine that once you have left home, the debts of your past will no longer come due. Yet you have not investigated deeply how enmities can be resolved and wrongs atoned for within the innate nature and spirit.

“‘Do you think that the wrongs and enmities accumulated over many lifetimes can simply vanish like wind because you speak of them or think about them? You must truly establish your resolve and practice the highest teachings of the Dao, with the salvation of all beings as your concern.

“‘Those with superior capacity for cultivation and great aspirations can suddenly cast off the ordinary mind, see all things in Heaven and Earth as illusory, dispel every false appearance, and regard themselves and others as one. Yet even then, debts from past lives and profound enmities cannot easily be escaped. How can debts of money or life be treated lightly? The ancient Buddha King Ari endured the cutting away of his limbs to repay past karma. Only after he had done so with a mind free of attachment did he attain the fruit of Shakyamuni. The Sixth Patriarch also brought profound enmities to their full resolution and endured even the slightest hardships; only then did he become the Great Mirror Zen Master of the Western Heaven.

“‘Your aspiration is now small and your capacity shallow. You refuse to repay the old debts of enmity and seek only to escape suffering. You cling too tightly to the body, fearing that your enemies will come for you and worrying that you will be punished, beaten, killed, or made to suffer. You seek only constant comfort for your body. This fear of repayment and concern for yourself show a shallow capacity and low attainment.

“‘If enmities are not resolved, they will give rise to harmful causes again after each karmic cycle, and you will meet your adversaries in another life. Though you are called a renunciant, in truth you have only tried to escape pain. This will not free you from suffering; instead, you will remain entangled life after life, generation after generation. The root of the problem is that your original vow was too limited and your aspiration too narrow.

“‘Your leaving home in this life counts as the cultivation of merit, not the cultivation of the Dao. You should have been reborn to undergo the cycle of existence and enjoy the rewards of your merit. But you once recited a hundred scrolls of the Heavenly Emperor’s treasured teachings and invoked the sacred name of Miroku for three years, with sincerity and devotion. Your name was entered among the Zhengyi Perfected Ones, and you should have been given an official post in the underworld. And because you recited scriptures for sponsors of purification rituals in the human world without missing any of the required rites, and gave away all the money you received, you may advance one rank and be registered as an assistant mountain god of a grotto-heaven. Go quickly and take up your duties there. Continue your practice in secret, and do not slacken.’”

When his companion had finished speaking, he disappeared. After emerging from samadhi, the Daoist understood that he had previously cared only for his own welfare and practiced a lesser, heterodox path. In the future, he might become no more than a ghost guarding a mountain. He quickly burned down his thatched hermitage, slung his meditation cushion and gourd staff over his back, and set out again to investigate his original mind. He endured every kind of humiliation and hardship, practiced every kind of good deed, cleared away scattered thoughts, and tempered body and mind. He vowed: “If anyone with whom I have an unresolved grievance comes seeking revenge, I will not flee, even if blades and axes strike me. I regard this flesh-and-blood body as something that will eventually perish, and the innate nature and spirit as something to be kept pure. My mind will remain unattached and undisturbed, clear and at ease. If I have good fortune, I will not seek to enjoy it; if I suffer, I will not refuse to bear it.”

He practiced for many years with this resolve. One day, while settled in stillness, he saw a Daoist arrive and bow to him. Looking closely, he recognized the first of his companions to have passed away in meditation. The man’s appearance was unchanged, but he looked ashamed and did not dare raise his head.

The Daoist asked what had happened. His companion replied: “I followed the wrong teacher and practiced a deviant path, without understanding its principles. I often concentrated my Shen and Qi in the Dantian and visualized them with focused intent. Over time, I became a ghost bound to my own corpse. My light reaches only a little over a foot; it can illuminate my own body, but everything beyond it remains dark, and I cannot see a thing. Now, because the light of your mind grew stronger as you entered stillness, I was drawn into the realm of your meditation.” After a short while, he too disappeared.

The Daoist who remained in practice came to understand the principles of innate nature more deeply. The root of life lies in the innate nature and spirit; with each new insight comes more light. As the light increases, wisdom grows; as wisdom grows, merit and virtue increase; and as merit and virtue increase, one’s spiritual rank rises.

He then emerged from meditation, believing that he had swept away the six faculties—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—dissolved the eight consciousnesses, the eight forms of discerning mind described in Buddhism, seen through the five aggregates, the five constituents of body and mind, and severed the seven emotions. He was about to take final refuge in the Great Celestial Worthy of Constant Clarity and Stillness. Yet the fleshly body born of his parents had been formed through the generative power of Heaven and Earth and had its own allotted lifespan. His time had come to an end.

The next day, he said to the people who had supported him at the foot of the mountain, “I must now take my leave of you and return.” They asked, “Why are you leaving in such haste?” The Daoist replied, “In this life, I have repaid the karma of my body, speech, and mind. Only the Four Debts of Gratitude remain unpaid, so I must be born once more to fulfill this wish.” When he had said this, he joined his hands and bowed toward empty space. Then he passed away seated in meditation.

That practitioner said, “The karma I created through body, speech, and mind in the past has been repaid. But I have not yet repaid the Four Debts of Gratitude—usually understood as gratitude to one’s parents, all living beings, the nation, and the Three Treasures—so I must be born again to fulfill this wish.” Having said this, he joined his hands in salute, dedicated his reverence to the unseen realm, and then passed away while seated.

Listen carefully, everyone. The ways these three people practiced differed in correctness and deviation, and their vows differed in scope. Their conduct at the moment of death shows that they had attained different levels and ranks. Only those with far-reaching aspirations can be called great people; those with narrow aspirations are lesser people. When aspirations are small, the heart and mind cannot be broad; when they are not broad, one’s capacity cannot be generous. If one’s vows do not extend to all, one’s capacity is narrow and one’s understanding shallow, so the Qi cultivated cannot become vast and abundant. When Qi cannot become vast and abundant, it can fill only this illusory physical body—not the boundless Great Void, the vast expanse of emptiness—much less stand alongside Heaven and Earth, reach through the sun and moon, and penetrate all things. How could such a person be called one who has attained the great and supreme Dao?

People gathered here, when human beings live between Heaven and Earth, illuminated by the sun and moon, raised by their parents, and taught by rulers and teachers, they receive what are known as the “Four Debts of Gratitude.” These four are vast and profound, and difficult to repay. As long as we remain confined within a physical body and suffer the afflictions and anguish brought by the Five Aggregates—the form, feeling, perception, formation, and consciousness that make up body and mind—we have not yet attained liberation. Even cultivating both merit and wisdom may leave us immersed in these afflictions for a long time.

Since you have taken refuge in the Three Jewels—the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha—why have you still not escaped suffering and adversity? If merit and wisdom are used to pursue wealth, status, and comfort, they too can become a vast sea of desire. The sages of old said, “The river of attachment surges in waves a thousand feet high; the sea of desire rises in ten thousand layers.” Only when the waters of desire have dried up and its waves have fallen still can the source of one’s original nature become clear. Understand this: from ancient times to the present, who has not shared the same source of this nature? Whether born from a womb, an egg, moisture, or transformation, all beings possess awareness. To recognize that all things and oneself come from one source is to repay Heaven’s kindness. To sustain life from generation to generation, to hold vast compassion, and to bear what is impure and endure humiliation—what living being lacks the capacity for this? Birds in flight, creatures that swim beneath the water, and plants that grow all depend on the Qi of Heaven and Earth for nourishment. This is how we repay Earth’s kindness.

Original nature is luminous like the great Earth and full and bright like the sky. When we meet people lost in darkness and confusion, we show them the right path and point out where they have gone astray. When we meet people sunk in dullness and delusion, we teach the Dharma and rescue living beings, helping them clear away obstacles. This is how we repay the kindness of the sun and moon.

We should carefully uphold the teachings of our teachers and elders, obey the laws of the state, and honor the law of the sovereign. We should not overstep our station or violate virtue and right principle. By observing the rules of the tradition and following its scriptures and teachings, we pray for the long life of the sacred ruler and the stability of the nation. We pass the right path on to future generations so that it may flourish and shine. This is how we repay the kindness of rulers and teachers.

Our bodies were bestowed by our parents, so we should not allow body or mind to be defiled. We should dispel selfishness and the distinctions between self and others, repent, and rescue those suffering in the netherworld. Remembering the hardships our parents endured in past lives, we pray that the karmic knots formed over many lifetimes may be untied. Facing the hardships of our relatives in this life, we repay the wrongs we have done through bowing and repentance. As long as this body remains, we should continue to fulfill our duty of filial piety. If we cannot deliver our parents from suffering, we ourselves will find it difficult to attain the Real. We should honor everyone’s parents as we honor our own, and care for everyone’s children as we care for our own, so that our ancestors of seven generations may ascend and our relatives of three generations may be elevated. This is how we repay our parents’ kindness.

Everyone, if even a trace of obstruction remains in your hearts, how can you communicate with the highest holy beings of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the Supreme Jade Emperor, the Three Officials and Four Sages who govern the affairs of Heaven, Earth, and Water, and the Five Elders and Seven Perfected Ones revered in Daoism?

You often set yourselves apart from others, making a habit of falling into ignorance and delusion. You are narrow-minded and cannot bear even one difficult matter; you are so small-hearted that you cannot make room for even one person. Without understanding the causes and consequences of events, you hastily judge right and wrong. You rejoice when honored and grow angry when insulted. Your aspirations lack resolve and substance, and your thoughts lack clarity and integrity. Your hearts are not generous, while your bodies are often lazy and idle. You treat small faults as unimportant and become self-satisfied over the slightest virtue. How, then, can you claim to have repaid Heaven and Earth, your ruler, your teachers, and your kin?

Everyone, your aspirations lack resolve and substance, and your thoughts lack clarity and integrity. Your hearts are not generous, while your bodies are often lazy and idle. You treat small faults as unimportant and become self-satisfied over the slightest virtue. How, then, can you claim to have repaid Heaven and Earth, your ruler, your teachers, and your kin?

People, if you wish to repay Heaven and Earth for their kindness, you must understand how they operate, grasp their intentions, know their laws, and put their virtue into practice. Do not deceive even when no one is watching. Cut away every delusion and selfish attachment completely. Let the light of wisdom shine everywhere, while showing forbearance toward every kind of defilement. When you suffer a loss, be willing to bear another; do not think of your own gain in the slightest. Even in hardship, accept hardship willingly, and put an end to every thought of taking an easy way out. Practice steadily, and your state of mind will become clear and open. With deep virtue and a far-reaching Dao, you will command the respect even of ghosts and spirits. When the spirit is clear and wisdom shines forth, all things will be transformed, and people will turn toward the Daoist path. Above, you will be able to commune with the Celestial Emperor; below, you will be able to command the thunder. In drought, pray for rain to nourish the people; in floods, pray for clear skies to end the disaster. Demonic forces will hide, and mountain and marsh spirits will flee. Above, pray that the state remain secure and enduring, and that the ruler enjoy boundless longevity; below, pray that all the people under Heaven live in peace and prosper. This is what it means to proclaim the purpose of the Daoist tradition and advance Daoist instruction.

Consider, too, the kindness shown to us all. Our parents carried us for ten months, nursed and raised us for three years, and endured countless hardships. Their kindness is profound and inexhaustible. Even after their children grow up, parents hope that someone will care for them and attend to their funerals, bringing honor to the family. Rulers labor day and night, entrusting the affairs of government and the teaching of the people to officials such as the Six Ministries and the Nine Ministers. They root out treachery, comfort the people, restrain wrongdoing, and honor the worthy. Teachers instruct people and bring understanding to those who are confused. By taking Earth as their model and following Heaven, they make clear the Three Bonds—the ethical obligations between ruler and subject, parent and child, and husband and wife—and clarify the Five Constant Virtues: benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness. They teach people to distinguish good from evil and understand the difference between human beings and animals. Can such kindness be called slight?

At home, you cannot care for your parents with filial devotion; in public service, you cannot offer counsel to the state. You depend on others’ charity for clothing and on the people’s labor for food. Yet you merely drift with the current, passing your days in a daze, idle and doing nothing. Your mouths recite words, but you cultivate no virtue and observe no Daoist precepts and ritual rules. Your conduct repeatedly breaks the precepts; your spirit grows dull and your mind scattered. You ascend the altar to pray for the state’s good fortune, but the ghosts and spirits do not come. You exorcise evil and drive away disease, yet calamities and epidemics do not subside. Your talismans have no power, and your prayers to avert disaster are in vain. Worse still, when rain falls or floods come, you curse the wind and rain and blame Heaven, behaving outrageously. Some even defy their parents and offend their kin, violate the precepts, and fly into anger, berating others at every turn.

People, look at oxen, horses, donkeys, mules, pigs, sheep, and dogs. They too have facial features and eyes; they too have males and females, perception and awareness. The only thing human beings have that they do not is a mouth capable of speech. Ah!

At this point, the preceptor—the person who presides over the precepts and teaches their observance—recited another verse:

Cultivate meditation and wisdom, and uphold the precepts with care; then the principles of heaven and hell will become clear of themselves. Let not the slightest attachment stain the heart, and its light will remain clear and bright. When all entanglements have faded and been forgotten, the heart will be pure. A person’s lifespan is set by Heaven and is not easily changed; to become free of birth and death, one must be wholly sincere. There are many deviant doctrines, strange arts, and tangled byways; I urge everyone to recognize the true path. The Four Gratitudes—the kindness of parents, teachers, the state, and all living beings—have yet to be repaid, and so one cannot help but feel ashamed. While the Three Karmas—the good and evil deeds of body, speech, and mind—remain, the Way is hard to fulfill. To repay the Four Gratitudes, first uphold the precepts; to clear away the Three Karmas, cultivate the Way and nurture what is true. Keeping the precepts naturally sets one on the right path; cultivating what is true ultimately means seeing through the illusion of fleeting life. Once the impermanence of human life is seen through, the Three Karmas can be emptied, and the Four Gratitudes repaid.

Those who wish to withdraw from the secular world and leave home to escape its dust, yet remain entangled in greed, anger, and delusion, will find it hard to attain the true Way. Only when ordinary feelings and desires have been exhausted can the heart be pure; when one’s innate nature shines forth, the Way comes near. See through the fact that the physical body is not real or permanent, and discern that nothing in the world endures forever. Leave not the slightest attachment; let go of the three minds of past, present, and future. Then one can take refuge in and uphold the Ten Precepts, and cultivate the Way freely.

Thirteen: Establishing Resolve and Making Vows

Everyone, sages, immortals, and Buddhas since ancient times have already seen through worldly affairs and understood that all things shaped by deliberate action, and everything with form, are ultimately illusory. They therefore resolved to transcend the secular world and rise above the ordinary, to become free of birth and death. They entered deep into the mountains, willing to forget themselves and give up their lives, all in pursuit of the Supreme Way.

People know the names of the sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas, yet do not understand their true Virtue or spiritual attainment. You all wish to become sages, worthies, or Buddhas, but you have not truly formed the firm resolve they had. You wish to attain their spiritual fruition, but have not cultivated the corresponding causes through practice. You long to reach their level, but have not made the vows or shown the determination they did. So your words sound fine, yet your actions fall short. This is because you understand with your mouths, but not with your hearts.

The Way has not been elucidated because those who truly understand it have not been encountered; it has not been put into practice because there are no people able to live by it. Those called “Daoist priests” do not necessarily understand the subtleties of Daoist cultivation. And among those who call themselves “Complete Perfection,” who has truly put the Quanzhen purpose into practice? No wonder filial piety has declined, and the Daoist lineage handed down by the ancestral masters has gradually withered.

You have now taken refuge in the Three Treasures—the Dao, the scriptures, and the teachers revered in Daoism—and undertaken the precepts. You can therefore be said to have encountered someone who understands the Way. But you must also follow the true words I have spoken and put into practice the conduct of sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas. Only then can you be called someone who truly follows the Great Way.

Before attaining the Dao (the Way), the sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas were ordinary people just like you. They had no extra eye or hand. What set them apart was their ability to set their minds on a goal, seek a path of cultivation beyond worldly concerns, and understand the key to life and death. This determination made them a hundred times wiser than ordinary people and gave them immeasurably broad hearts and minds. Though their bodies remained human, within their hearts they had already reached the realm of the sages.

Sages do not merely speak of transcending worldly concerns. They truly hold this aspiration in their hearts and act on it. That is why they are called people of great courage and profound compassion. They are called great men and teachers of gods and humans because their aspirations are extraordinary, and so are their deeds.

When they act, their presence is striking: the sword of wisdom seems to rest across their shoulders, and a flash of lightning seems to dart between their raised brows. The blade of the precepts seems poised at their necks; when they open their eyes, their power is like thunder. Those who follow heterodox paths, straying from the right way of cultivation, are filled with fear and retreat. Even the winds of evil tremble and turn toward taking refuge. Thus they ascend the nine-tiered lotus throne, a symbol of levels of cultivation, and reach the jeweled seat of the Dharma King, a symbol of supreme awakening and the highest station of teaching.

Their words are pure sounds of the Dharma. Those who hear them feel as if clarified butter had been poured over their heads, awakening them and clearing their minds. Their bodies give off a pure, wondrous fragrance; those who see them receive deliverance, and countless beings are nourished as if by sweet dew.

After attaining the Dao and fulfilling their great aspiration, they make vast vows: they do not cling to the four marks of self, others, sentient beings, or lifespan—that is, attachment to oneself, other people, living beings, or the length of life. They seek not only their own deliverance, but also wish to help others become free. They use the methods by which they themselves attained deliverance to guide all beings, without judging them by the state of mind or standards they had when they were delivered. They make the wishes of the people their own, for “the people” is another name for sentient beings, and sentient beings are of the same kind as oneself. They save beings by methods suited to them. If one is unwilling to save sentient beings, one is not truly willing to attain the Dao.

The Scripture of Clarity and Stillness says: “Though it is called attaining the Dao, in truth there is nothing to attain. It is called attaining the Dao for the sake of teaching sentient beings. Those who understand this may be entrusted with the sacred Dao.”

Dear listeners, sages, immortals, Buddhas, and ordinary people are not fundamentally different. The difference lies only in whether they are public-minded or self-serving. Sages are fair and upright, willing to consider others; ordinary people are partial and deluded, concerned only with themselves. Sages are clear-minded and calm, while ordinary people are muddled and clouded, restless and unsettled. Sages are strict with themselves, using strong resolve to discipline their own conduct, yet gentle and generous toward others. Ordinary people indulge themselves but are harsh and demanding toward others. Sages are always concerned that they might do something wrong, while ordinary people are always faulting others. The greater the burden sages bear, the more carefully they act; the more dangerous and difficult the task ordinary people face, the more likely they are to be careless.

Before facing death, sages already understand what comes after it. Ordinary people, though death may come at any moment, remain concerned only with making a living in the present. Sages pursue ways of cultivation that transcend the ordinary world, and also treat everyday life as a path for cultivating their nature: as children, they are filial; as officials, they are loyal. Ordinary people understand neither the ways of cultivation that transcend the ordinary world nor the principles of how to conduct themselves in this world, much less loyalty to their ruler or filial respect for their parents.

These benighted, deluded people, who never awaken, understand neither worldly principles nor the ways of cultivation. They drift through each day in a daze and waste their lives. Clinging to life and fearing death, they live blindly and unknowingly, then die in confusion. A person’s small glimmer of true spiritual nature and heavenly principle—the inner truth of spirit and the order of Heaven—is trapped within the flesh. Through countless kalpas, it continues to drift in the sea of suffering that is birth and death, never knowing how to turn things around. It repeatedly takes on new appearances, being reborn as different people, cycling through reincarnation without end and not knowing when it will finally be free.

Everyone, now that you have received the precepts, you have taken your first step. Only by taking this step can you hope to escape suffering; only by escaping suffering can you hope to transcend the world. To free yourselves from suffering, you must first undergo hardship. If you are unwilling to endure it, you will find it difficult to escape suffering.

You should follow the true teachings of the sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas, rather than coveting their fame. Set your aspirations on becoming like them instead of merely talking about the stages of attainment they have reached. Lay the foundations for becoming a sage, worthy, immortal, or Buddha, and the corresponding fruits will naturally follow. Accumulate the De (virtue and power) they cultivated, and you can attain the Dao (the Way) they practiced. Do what they did, and you can realize their state. To “receive the precepts” means to accept the rules of conduct and establish standards for your practice. If your actions do not match your words, and you speak beyond what you actually do, you are an ordinary person with no desire to make progress. Can someone so lacking in resolve truly hope to attain the Dao of the sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas?

Everyone should establish an unwavering resolve and make a profound vow in order to transcend the world of dust. Thus the verse says:

Disciples who have received the precepts, listen to me with sincere hearts. Only by setting your resolve can you hope to escape the cycle of birth and death. First, willingly undergo hardship and discipline body and mind. When the trials have passed, sweetness can be tasted, as though you had died and returned to life. Resolve inwardly to sweep away afflictions like dust, turn against worldly feelings, and set out on the path of cultivation beyond the world.

Be as steadfast as the Dipper’s handle turned around, standing firm and lofty; abide on the white jade platform of True Emptiness. Do not cling to conditioned dharmas and fall into the outer paths, nor cling to unconditioned dharmas and stray into deviation. Fall neither into “being” nor into “nonbeing,” but vow to uphold the Middle Way. In cultivation, do not become fixated on being or nonbeing; observe with awareness to illuminate the mind and see your original nature.

Resolve not to be turned by external circumstances. Even when conditions are perilous, let your mind remain unmoved. Use the methods of the mind to transform circumstances, opening wisdom so that its light shines everywhere. Resolve not to be drawn along by worldly affairs. Even if you lose power or fall into demonic obstacles, do not let yourself drift with the current, only to regret it after another turn through the cycle of rebirth.

Resolve not to be obstructed by principles or things. Do not cling or linger, and do not let appearances hold you fast. Understand the principles and see things clearly, and obstacles can dissolve into emptiness. Attain the True Emptiness of liberation, and delusion will disappear.

Resolve not to let the ears chase after sounds. Gather the hearing inward and turn your attention within, making it your aim to hear your inner True Nature. If essence and Qi leak out through the ears and eyes, you lose sight of your True Nature. Therefore, gather the spirit through patience, and do not let it race outward after sound and color. Resolve not to be stirred by the forms and colors seen by the eyes. Draw in your outward gaze and look within, so that the mind and spirit become clear. Do not let your gaze dissipate your vital energy; even with eyes closed, keep the mind and spirit focused.

Resolve not to speak recklessly with the tongue. Speech in accord with the Dao is best kept spare and returned to the natural. Teaching does not necessarily depend on sound, yet it can bring understanding. When there is no speech or discussion, the breath, too, should be natural and unforced. Resolve not to crave the flavors tasted by the tongue, for taking life and causing harm are forbidden by the spirits. In cultivation, “Golden Nectar and Jade Fluid,” “Sweet Spring,” and “Sweet Dew” describe the clear, sweet fluids within the body.

Resolve not to pursue fragrances sensed by the nose, for once desire stirs, it harms the constant True Nature. After liberation, one can naturally experience heavenly fragrance; everyone can also offer Heaven the heart’s pure fragrance. Resolve not to let the body move about without restraint. Maintain decorum and guard against idleness. Lack of filial piety and respect defiles the spiritual root; those who cultivate the Dao should be upright and dignified, sitting in reverence.

Resolve not to let the mind oppose what lies before it. Anger and resentment stirred without cause disturb the spirit. Subdue the mind and act in accordance with reason, allowing harmony to fill you and the spirit to remain at ease. Resolve not to change your course at will. At all times, remain sincere and upright; harbor no divided thoughts, be honest and circumspect even when alone, and hold fast to your single-minded vow.

Resolve not to be entangled in love and attachment. Love and attachment bind the heart like ropes; they must be severed at the root and cut off at the first sprout, so that you may board the vessel of cultivation. Resolve to stay far from reckless and unvirtuous companions, for they can make you lose your thought of the Dao and your true heart. Do not walk with those who corrupt the religious tradition. Resolve not to be led astray by ignorant teachers, and not to be pulled along by the Six Roots—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—or the Six Dusts—form, sound, fragrance, taste, touch, and mental objects. Do not fixate on a single method and vainly seek the true mechanism, nor stray into the outer paths and side gates.

Resolve first to receive the Initial True Precepts. By keeping the Ten Precepts, the mind is less likely to fall into ruin. Subdue deluded thoughts and observe the precepts, and you will not lose your True Nature. Diligently maintain the four great dignified comportments of walking, standing, sitting, and lying down. Then resolve to advance and receive the Middle Ultimate Precepts, cultivating and observing with ease in the smallest actions. Liberate the physical body and realize the Dharma Body; awaken to the Dharma Body, Reward Body, and Transformation Body, transcending the cycles of the kalpas.

Resolve to repay kindness. Remember the four great debts of gratitude owed to Heaven and Earth, parents, teachers, and rulers, and strive to repay them. Even if you offer up your life, repay these profound kindnesses; be a filial child and loyal subject who brings joy to Heaven and Earth. Resolve to cultivate the Real by first casting off falsehood. Do not pretend to be deaf or mute or feign stupidity; be sincere and truthful, and deceive no one. Even the slightest falsehood can turn your cultivation away from the right path.

Resolve to cut off killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct, as well as the desires and afflictions of alcohol, sensuality, wealth, anger, greed, delusion, and resentment. Forever renounce the Six Desires, the Seven Emotions, and the Three Poisons of greed, anger, and delusion, lest you fall into confusion again. Resolve not to be content with the lower and middle vehicles of cultivation that seek only blessings, for blessings are eventually exhausted. Aspire instead to the Great Vehicle of purity and liberation, and realize the supreme One Vehicle. Cultivate diligently without losing heart; eliminate every kind of fault and karmic offense, so that your original nature becomes clear and your wisdom grows, and your merit and virtue become as vast as Heaven and Earth.

Resolve to take refuge in precepts, concentration, and wisdom. Cultivate the unsurpassed Dharma gate, and you will meet no obstacles and enter a great realm of light without barriers or concealment, free from distinctions between defilement and purity and from fear. Without birth or death: this is the Dharma beyond the world. Without increase or decrease, without form or action, and beyond all ranks and categories, attain the incomparable, unsurpassed, exalted state of the Infinite. Transcend the Three Realms and ascend to the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), taking your place upon the jeweled throne in Miro Heaven, the lofty celestial realm of Daoism.

Resolve to take refuge in the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning, and let the Three Treasures of the Dao, the scriptures, and the teacher examine your heart. I resolve to transcend the tribulations of the world, awaken fully to body and mind, and cease turning through the cycle of rebirth. With sincere hearts, we make our vows. From this moment, resolve to cast off delusion and deceit, entrust body and life to emptiness, and see through emptiness, being, and illusion with thoughts of Suchness.

May we cultivate the highest One Vehicle, with minds that cling to no appearances. May the Six Roots be purified and remain undisturbed by the Six Dusts. May we reverently uphold the Daoist scriptures and first remove all obstacles. May we dispel the afflictions of emotional consciousness and awaken to the True Tradition, so that our precious nature is not led astray by false thoughts. May we entrust mind and life to the Void, so that our nature and life do not wander onto a deluded path. May we understand the principles of birth and death and transcend the world. The Dharma Realm is vast, and the Dharma Body is vast and complete. When the Dharma Body is complete, the Dharma Realm returns to emptiness: True Emptiness is vast and unobstructed.

May we free ourselves from birth and death and help others attain liberation, making no distinction between self and others. May we save all living beings everywhere and regard them as ourselves. May our resolve remain firm and complete, and may we obtain the true mechanism of cultivation so that body and mind can turn back from delusion. Even if swords and axes wound our bodies, we will not shrink from it. Even amid the calamities of water and fire, our will will not weaken. Faced with the Three Calamities, the Eight Difficulties, and every kind of suffering, we willingly bear them and harbor no thought of resistance. Even when our vow seems exhausted, our resolve will not break; no heavenly demon can obstruct us.

Even if we encounter tribulations such as the Yang Nine and the Hundred and Six, we will not abandon our vows. Though the body be destroyed and its frame perish, we will not renounce our aspirations. Even if stone crumbles and the sea runs dry, our resolve will not fail. With vows firm as adamant, we will steadfastly uphold concentration and wisdom. Even if we sink into the Avici Hell, we will never retreat. The suffering caused by the evil karma we ourselves have made should be borne with patient endurance. May we understand how we have been deluded since time without beginning and enter the constant, tranquil concentration free from outflows—that is, no longer stained by afflictions.

May we, with hearts of utter sincerity, relieve the Three Paths of suffering—the realms of hell, hungry ghosts, and animals—and enter the great realm of light without barriers. May we aid living beings with compassion and become skilled physicians who heal the world’s sufferings. May we raise the boat of compassion upon the sea of suffering and ferry living beings beyond the realm of illusion.

All things between Heaven and Earth have their truth. The Primordial Ancestral Qi, the original Qi of the cosmos, brings forth and nourishes all the spirits. Sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas all take utmost sincerity as their foundation. I urge everyone gathered here to cultivate yourselves together, join hands in liberation, and rise beyond the world of ordinary dust.

Everyone, the vow you have made is to set sail in the boat of compassion and cross the sea of suffering, to save living beings from the illusory realm. All things between Heaven and Earth are real. The primordial ancestral Qi—the vital energy that Daoism regards as the source of the cosmos—gave birth to all spirits. Sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas all take sincerity as their foundation. I urge you to begin with yourselves and practice together to attain liberation, leaving behind the ordinary world.

Everyone, I will now give my instructions one by one and urge you again and again to uphold the arduous vows you have made and the great aspirations you have proclaimed. You are outstanding disciples carrying on Daoist teachings, immortals who spread the traditions of your lineage, numinous youths who continue the Dao lineage, and Daoists who cultivate in pursuit of breaking through Heaven’s barrier. The people of the Ten Continents and Three Islands—the fabled overseas paradises where immortals dwell—have all heard of this and know of it. Each of you should reflect and establish your aspiration to cultivate as soon as possible. That is the wise course.

Alas! If you do not cultivate now, in this life, and deliver yourself from suffering, in which life will you do so? Time flies like an arrow; the sun and moon wheel past like shuttles. Since you entered monastic life, you have let the years slip by and wasted your time. Now your hair is white, your skin wrinkled, your teeth gradually falling out, your sinews and bones stiff, and your flesh slack. When your bones weaken, you can no longer travel far; when your Qi and blood are depleted, you can no longer lift heavy things. When your vital essence is exhausted and your kidney Qi declines, your vision grows dim. When your mind is weary and your spirit unsettled, your spiritual awareness can no longer find rest. As your Hun and Po souls weaken, your hearing also fades. Even if your stomach Qi remains strong, a weak Spleen Qi will gradually reduce your appetite.

Everyone, know that this body is inherently illusory and impermanent. No matter how robust it may be, one day it will die; only the timing differs. Deafness and blurred vision, a dry mouth and tongue, loose or missing teeth, back pain and a stooped posture, hair turned gray and brittle, stiff sinews and bones, numb hands and feet, declining resolve, and a disheartened spirit—all these are like death summons sent by the King of the Underworld, waiting to call people to their end.

Do not concern yourselves only with family attachments, petty gains, and narrow understanding, clinging blindly like animals to the present while ignoring the life to come. If the ghost officials came to seize you today, you could not refuse; you could only follow them. Even if you have left home to cultivate the Dao and withdrawn from worldly life, can you really evade death? Why not see this clearly and cultivate for liberation as soon as possible? Only one who can let go of everything and depart calmly at the final moment deserves to be called a great man of extraordinary courage. You can leave home to cultivate only if you set your resolve, have determination, and possess the strength to follow through. Otherwise, you will shrink back in fear, timid and dispirited.

As the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind, the basic constituents of the body—separate, the sight, hearing, and intelligence you possessed throughout life will also fade away. A person is left only to weep and lament, drifting without support, and ultimately sinking into the hells. Alas, everyone: to cultivate without setting an aspiration is like performing with puppets. When the gongs and drums stop, you do not know where you are going. Resolve enables you to transcend the world; without an aspiration, cultivation becomes exceedingly difficult. Only by resolving to practice the true Dao can you reveal extraordinary courage and strength.

To cultivate the wondrous Dao of purity, stillness, Wuwei (non-action), freedom, and ease, one must first set one’s resolve and learn to act with ease in daily life. If one can act naturally in the world, the Dao is already present there. If one cannot even act with ease, how can one claim to have accorded with nature? If one cannot manage the affairs of ordinary life, how can one speak of freedom and ease?

A perfected master said, “If you wish to cultivate the immortal Dao, first cultivate the human Dao well. If you have not cultivated the human Dao well, the immortal Dao is still far away.” Confucian teaching says, “First put one’s household in order; only then can one govern the state.” Putting the household in order is like cultivating the human Dao well; governing the state is like cultivating the immortal Dao. If one cannot even put one’s household in order, how could one govern the state?

Buddhist teaching says, “Be rid of the ordinary mind; do not devise another interpretation of the sacred Dao.” Here, “ordinary mind” refers to the Three Bonds and Five Constant Virtues, the traditional ethical principles. If one acts in accordance with these principles, one has cultivated the human Dao in full, and cultivating the immortal Dao afterward will not be difficult. Even if one cannot become a sage, an immortal, or a Buddha, the path will be much easier.

How can one cultivate the way of immortality? Disciples, you have only just entered the Daoist gate, begun learning to be Daoist priests, and received teachings from your masters. You then start sitting in meditation and quieting your minds, imagining that your ordinary lives have reached their end and that attaining immortality and realizing the Dao is just around the corner. Little do you know that you have not yet shown your masters the respect they deserve, nor learned to distinguish the true from the false in the instructions you have received, yet you are already eager to begin your practice. You rush to seek results from the start. After sitting for two or three days without seeing anything happen, you give up. You go to another master, hear a few words, and start sitting again. Your resolve to seek the Dao cannot last even two or three days before you want results once more, and you cannot even control your distracting thoughts. With such confused minds and shallow understanding, you may practice a little, but your thoughts keep multiplying and your minds and spirits cannot settle. Your cultivation is like a dream. Even after sitting for twenty or thirty years, you remain an ordinary person. At the end of your life, you still cannot gather your thoughts, and you do not understand why. To waste your time and years in this way is like trying to scoop the moon from water or pick flowers from a mirror. How could you expect to become an immortal all at once?

I will say no more about how blind masters lead you astray and heterodox teachings deceive you. I only urge you to study again and again the teachings on strict and clear precepts, and on resolving to repay the kindness you have received. First, set your thoughts straight and dispel afflictions and ignorance—the delusion that clouds the mind. Devote yourselves wholeheartedly to the Dao, take refuge in the Three Treasures—the Dao, the scriptures, and the teachers revered in Daoism—recite the true scriptures, and practice in accordance with the precepts. Sit in meditation for a hundred days in the Hall of the Ten Directions, a place for Daoist cultivation and ritual recitation. Maintain a dignified bearing, settle body and mind, remain composed in your conduct, and keep your posture upright. Only then should you perform prostrations, respectfully invite a true master, and vow not to practice the lower and middle vehicles, the lesser paths of cultivation. With sincerity, entrust your life to the Dao and declare your willingness to hear the wondrous, supreme and true Dao: the Great Vehicle’s pure liberation, which follows the natural course. Realize life and death and free yourselves forever from the cycle of rebirth. Only after doing these things may you receive the Ten Precepts of Initial Perfection, the ten precepts given to those first entering the Daoist path.

All of you should understand that Daoist practice begins by transforming your temperament. Only after hearing the Dao may you sit on a meditation cushion, quiet your minds and still your thoughts, cast aside worries and desires, devote yourselves to cultivation, and stop clinging to worldly affairs. After receiving the Three Hundred Great Precepts of the Central Ultimate, study them closely and understand them thoroughly. Then you can see that the great matter of cultivating the Dao lies within you, not outside the mind. Investigate it earnestly in secret, bring your practice to completion, and verify it against the principles of emptiness and naturalness. Even after reaching a high state, continue to advance with diligence.

Do not twist the truth or argue with specious words. Some people know only a few religious sites, or have acquired a small temple and taken on one or two disciples, and are already satisfied and arrogant. They pay no attention to the precepts, concentration, and wisdom. They neither emulate masters who uphold the precepts strictly nor live in harmony with their fellow practitioners. They can barely read and know little; they have not yet cultivated themselves into decent human beings, yet they presume to greatness and claim to practice the supreme path. They write a few elixir instructions on fans, hang a bag containing several elixir scriptures from their shoulders, and stuff their gourds with assorted herbs. They scour the countryside for medicinal plants and swindle ordinary people out of their money, falsely claiming that their elixir recipes came from an extraordinary person overseas. Once they have the money, they buy wine and meat. They boast wildly, though they know nothing of the principles of the pulses and Yin-Yang; they cobble together a few recipes and pretend to have achieved something. They chatter all day about everything under the sun and run from place to place, seeking only clothes and food. Such people corrupt the laws of the Most High and disgrace the reputation of Quanzhen. They destroy the precepts and violate the rules of purity. The scriptures warn that their sins are grave: in the end, the celestial administration, which keeps the heavenly registers and oversees rewards and punishments, will call them to account, and they will fall into hell. This is truly deplorable and painful.

There are also people who have only just entered the Daoist path but whose aims and aspirations are narrow. They want only to sit in meditation and enjoy ease, unwilling to subdue their minds and vital energy or renounce romantic attachments. Their practice is muddled and half-hearted; they cling to outward appearances, let their minds wander, and hope only for quick results. They manipulate Qi and move Jing, fixating on particular points in the body. As a result, they become dazed and confused, mistaking a thief for their own child. They remain deluded for a long time, refuse to seek instruction with humility or visit others to investigate and learn, and, once their habits take hold, become difficult to save. Some even endanger their own lives and continue falling into the cycle of rebirth. They mistake the Great Dao of the limitless for something contained within the flesh, and identify the discriminating spirit—the consciousness governed by what one sees, hears, and thinks—with the original spirit, the true spirit spoken of in cultivation. Letting the discriminating spirit lead them, how could they ever realize life and death?

Disciples, be sure to remember my words: sweep away and courageously abandon, as early as possible, all deviant paths, wicked methods, and unusual arts. Refine your body, mind, and thoughts in accordance with Heaven’s mandate and your original nature. Do not covet immediate results. Simply devote yourselves to understanding the Dao, establish your resolve, and continue your practice. No matter how great the obstacles, strive to break through them. When your practice has matured, you will suddenly awaken, like fruit falling of its own accord when fully ripe, and understand the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth.

If your blessings are slight and your karmic affinities insufficient, accumulate De through good deeds and keep making progress. Perhaps you will not awaken to the Dao in this life, but will in the next. If you still do not awaken in the next, then after countless lives and generations, the day of awakening will surely come. To make this vow and never turn back, life after life, is to embody the great compassion of a sage; ultimately, you will attain the Dao.

Accumulating worldly blessings is relatively easy, but cultivating the blessings of purity and transcendence is difficult. You have resolved to cultivate the transcendent Dao. This is the right path, unlike heterodox ways that deliberately refine and nourish the body in pursuit of immortality. Practitioners of those methods may cling to their physical bodies for thousands upon thousands of years, like ghosts guarding corpses. The Dao of ultimate emptiness and purity does not seek quick results or set a fixed term of three, five, nine, or ten years. Its foundation is simply to illuminate the mind and see one’s nature.

During practice, various changes and sensations may arise: increased saliva, a fragrant breath, strength in the hands and feet, a sensation in the head, warmth in the abdomen, or cracking sounds in the joints throughout the body. These are only superficial phenomena of cultivation; at every step, you must return to the essence of the Great Dao. The essence of the Great Dao is utterly empty and void, and so it is called “Wuji.” If you stray from the root and mistake outward phenomena for attainment, you will fall into a deviant path. A deviation as small as a hair’s breadth can lead a thousand miles astray.

Clinging to names and particular symbols, insisting on setting up some form of protection or establishing a crucible, raising lead at the hour of the Rat and lowering mercury at the hour of the Horse, advancing the Yang Fire and retreating the Yin Talisman, practicing according to the trigrams and hours, and seeking corresponding signs without understanding that one must return to the essence of the Great Dao—all this belongs to lower, lesser paths. Purity and Wuwei (non-action) are the wondrous Dao of following nature and returning to one’s true state, entirely different from such practices.

For example, when reciting the Huang Jing, a Daoist scripture, one forms an intention, makes a resolve, and vows to transcend the ordinary world. This first thought is like the “Jade Maiden releasing fragrance”: the fragrance is a metaphor for the attraction exerted by a wholesome vow. Once the fragrance of the heart is released, it can transform beings in the Six Realms; those who encounter it can be delivered. Making the vow is the practice; the transformation of beings is its effect. Another example is the Jade Emperor radiating light, drawing the heavens, the earth, and the realm of Wuji into its brightness, like boundless mirrors reflecting one another and encompassing one another. This too is an effect. Removing obstacles is the practice; the so-called “seventeen rays of light” and “thirty kinds of merit” are effects. The chapters on merit and on karmic retribution in the scripture describe the blessings and karmic consequences received by those who recite it.

If in the past you were frivolous and impatient, with unruly thoughts; if you talked idly without stopping, kept your hands and feet constantly busy, wandered about without purpose, could not sit or lie still, looked everywhere, and were like a gust of wind, then you did not resemble a practitioner of the Dao. You were like an ox without a nose rope or a horse without reins, unable to follow the right path. Now you have received the precepts, put on Daoist robes and headwear, and taken up your alms bowl and shoes. In outward appearance, you have become Quanzhen Daoists. You also learn rituals, speech, and conduct by following others. As your former habits of rudeness and haste gradually give way to composure and observance of propriety, this is the work of keeping the precepts. Changing your temperament and displaying a dignified Daoist bearing that inspires respect in others are outward signs of keeping the precepts.

If you can uphold wondrous practice and devote your attention to the Dao, seeking only to illuminate the mind and see your nature, without coveting signs, and worrying only that your practice is insufficient, not that its effects will fail to appear, then once your practice has matured, you will naturally awaken. If your practice lacks discipline, your thoughts will waver and come and go, mixed with doubt. When the heart is not sincere, the spirit cannot become focused; when thoughts are impure, Qi cannot gather. If the mind wanders, the breath scatters, and your thoughts lack focus, how can any effect arise?

Since you have made a great resolve to escape the cycle of rebirth, you should broaden your mind, devote yourselves diligently to practice, and leave effects for later. That is the right approach. A good physician uses medicine to restore balance and cure the root cause. A mediocre physician seeks only immediate results and ignores the source of the illness. Pursuing only quick, nearby effects will ultimately damage your vital energy. If the root cannot be restored at once, the symptoms can easily recur and change. By the time the patient notices, it is often too late for regret.

Everyone, if you practice each morning and evening in accordance with the precepts and liturgy, continually reminding yourselves to apply effort and seeking to understand the principles at every moment, why worry that your cultivation will bear no fruit? Even when your mind is already broad and your vision clear, you must still gather your intentions, subdue delusive thoughts, and draw near to people of virtue. Seek their guidance and confirmation, and you will gain deeper understanding.

Never cling to the “notion of self”—seeing yourself as a fixed, unchanging entity—to the point of forgetting others. Nor should you cling to the “notion of others”—seeing others as fixed, unchanging entities—to the point of forgetting yourself. When these two attachments no longer arise, you can also let go of the four notions of self, others, sentient beings, and lifespan: four forms of discriminating attachment. After that, responses will naturally arise through the power of virtue and good fortune.

Cultivation of the Dao depends entirely on the heart. Only with sincere intent and steadfast resolve can one draw close to the Dao. If distracting thoughts can be dispelled and the heart made calm and clear, cultivation may bear fruit wherever one practices. The heart must be still, and distracting thoughts must settle like ashes. Yet within this stillness, vigorous life can spring forth. The Qi of true fire, a term in Neidan cultivation for the transformation of essence and Qi within the body, can illuminate all things, like the sun shining in the heavens.

In cultivation, one must always carefully uphold the precepts. Experiences in meditation should be discerned by the light of wisdom, the illuminating awareness of insight. The inner millet grain, a Neidan term for the subtle Elixir body or an inward subtle vision, is tiny yet contains Heaven and Earth. To explain it to those who do not understand would only make one seem foolish. All of you, listen attentively: how could careless and restless practice ever bring the Way of the Immortals to completion? Follow the precepts, accumulate merit through practice, strengthen your resolve, restrain distracting thoughts, cultivate quietly in the mountains, and gather in your spirit. Only when the four appearances, a general term for attachments to body, mind, and outward form, are emptied will the heart become still. When opposition and turmoil between inside and outside no longer arise, the Dao can communicate with the heart.

Now I will tell you the essentials of cultivating the Dao: success depends entirely on whether you practice with sincerity. Cultivate diligently and follow the Way with perseverance, and results will naturally follow. At every moment, practice deeply and carefully, observing quietly within your heart; do not let others easily know. Do not cling to your own state of mind. Only then may you truly awaken.

A foolish cat guarding its cave is still driven by ignorance, the delusion that obscures one’s nature. Yet it imagines that the embryo is complete and the holy infant has been born. When will the Metal Lord, a symbolic Neidan term often referring to Metal nature or related vital essence, ride the azure tiger? And who will ride the white dragon for the Wood Mother, a symbolic Neidan term often referring to Wood nature or related vital essence? These questions use alchemical imagery: without understanding their true meaning, one can only talk emptily about Neidan visions. If three blossoms of light appear atop the head and the five Qi surge within the body, but one merely pursues these descriptions without recognizing the true signs of cultivation, the numinous platform, the seat of the spirit and mind, will be blocked, and one’s nature will be unable to open through.

Do not disparage the precepts as shallow. They are the foundation for entering the Dao through Wuwei (non-action), like a raft raised amid the waves to cross the sea, or a ladder set up in the air to climb to Heaven. Do not boast and grow arrogant, or slander others and quarrel over right and wrong. If you do not wish to receive the precepts, that is your own choice; why hinder others and make them doubt? If you can praise them aloud and rejoice in your heart, you are helping the Daoist tradition and upholding its teachings. Slandering the precepts brings Heaven’s retribution; the consequences of actions have been clear since ancient times.

Alas! Though you could do good, you refuse; though you could speak kindly, you will not. Though the Great Dao is there, you do not cultivate it, but only try to be clever—and end up undone by your own cleverness. Without practicing the precepts and meditation, how can you inherit the legacy of the Highest One? Without cultivating both merit and wisdom, how can body and mind be freed? If you act recklessly without understanding the principles, how can you uncover the key to cultivation? If you do not remove obstacles and ignorance, how can your heart and mind become open? Better to commit fewer offenses than many; better to say nothing than to speak recklessly. The Supreme Dao is unlike heterodox paths; it is not to be discussed lightly or bandied about. Selling secret formulas everywhere carries clear measures of guilt and merit. If you remain deluded and fail to awaken, how can your heart and mind become open? Better to commit fewer offenses than many; better to say nothing than to speak recklessly. The Supreme Dao is unlike heterodox paths; it is not to be discussed lightly or bandied about. Selling secret formulas everywhere carries clear measures of guilt and merit. If you remain deluded and fail to awaken, you will ultimately face death and retribution, being reborn as a pig or sheep and slaughtered. The hidden spirits between Heaven and Earth cannot be escaped, and on the Five La and Three Origin days, Daoist fast days and ritual observances, they examine people’s good and evil. Know that the movements of the sun and moon and the changes of Yin-Yang follow their own order; they are not confused or chaotic. Human error will eventually be laid bare. Everyone should understand this in their hearts and not slander the Orthodox Way. With compassion, the scripture urges again and again: take refuge and uphold the Three Thousand Great Precepts, the traditional Daoist expression for the body of Daoist precepts, as soon as possible.

With no obstacles in the heart, one can go beyond disputes over right and wrong. Whether sitting, lying down, walking, or standing still, one can cultivate everywhere. From now on, the fire of karmic offenses will go out like an empty flame, and the night’s bright light will seem to announce that the Dharma Hall has been illuminated. Liberation arises from precepts, meditation, and wisdom. To uphold the precepts, one must be sincere and steadfast; then one can draw near to and experience the states of cultivation. If you suspect that the precepts are merely a deception passed down through the ages, you will bring upon yourself Heaven’s retribution and the punishment of having your tongue pulled out. Once cultivators awaken, they are no longer doubtful. Clouds of thought in the heart scatter as if blown away by the wind, leaving it clear and transparent. One can then roam freely, as though cutting off useless entanglements. Perform the liturgy according to its prescribed forms: when bowing to the Heavenly Venerables, do not raise your voice or tilt your head. Uphold consistency within and without, and the spirit will not become confused. Though the body remains that of an ordinary person, the Daoist heart has been realized.

Attaining the Dao is neither easy nor difficult; the key is whether one upholds the precepts in the heart. Escape from the cycle of birth and death must come through precepts and meditation. Once you have taken refuge, do not neglect the precepts and become stubbornly complacent.

Everyone, a few days ago I sat before you and repeatedly urged you to strive diligently and make great vows, seeking only to understand life and death as soon as possible. I warned you not to set your sights too low and follow the Lesser Vehicle path of clinging to life and fearing death—the Buddhist path concerned with individual liberation. Yet today I am speaking about the inner method of preserving life and extending its span. Does this mean I am contradicting myself, speaking falsely, and misleading people?

Everyone, by preserving life and extending its span, I do not mean clinging to the physical body and speaking only of Jing and Qi, so that you may preserve the lifespan allotted by your acquired nature and prolong the brief life you have now. By “preserving life,” I mean what the Doctrine of the Mean says: “What Heaven has conferred is called nature.” It means safeguarding the nature Heaven has bestowed on us, living peacefully, and waiting for it to manifest on its own. This is akin to the Buddhist “wisdom-life,” the life of wisdom and awakening, and to the Daoist “natal star,” the star fundamentally linked to an individual’s life. Here, “life” refers to an enduring life in which the physical form dies but one’s nature does not. The Diamond Sutra also says, “How can one attain long life? Through an indestructible body like a diamond”—meaning that true longevity lies in the indestructible Dharma body. Heaven’s mandate is one and undivided. We should cultivate body and mind and quietly await its illumination; by investigating the principles of things and fully understanding our nature, we ultimately comprehend Heaven’s mandate. This is the essential meaning of establishing the root of life.

By “extending life,” I do not mean driving out illness to prolong the years or attaining immortality. I mean allowing the true nature, indestructible through countless kalpas, and the Dharma body, enduring since time immemorial—the fundamental life beyond the physical body—to manifest. It gives life to all beings and is the root of the generation and transformation of all things; it is not a physical body. If “extending life” is understood as preserving the body, then even with proper cultivation one might live only a few years longer. That merely postpones death; it is not the true Dao.

The cultivation I speak of as preserving life is making oneself one with Heaven, Earth, and all things. Though Heaven and Earth undergo change, my nature does not waver; though all things come to an end, my nature has no end. Heaven, Earth, and all things pass through cycles of calamity, waxing and waning, and coming and going, while my true nature remains clear and constant, empty, numinous, and undimmed. It transcends forms, cannot be destroyed, and does not change with time. The life to be safeguarded and sustained is precisely this inexhaustible nature. This is the constant Dao by which heavenly principle flows and life goes on without end.

The words in this section are spoken only because there is no other choice: the meaning within must be expressed. Those with insight, who can understand that the profound teaching is in truth silent and still, will grasp its meaning.

The Great Dao is vast and boundless, encompassing Heaven and Earth. There is nowhere it is absent and no moment when it is not present. The Dao is within all things; nothing lies beyond its reach. In everyday life, the Dao is evident everywhere: in seeing and hearing, walking and standing, sitting and lying down, eating and resting, advancing and withdrawing, dressing and cooking, and in shifts between clear and rainy weather, cold and heat. Yet you are obscured by external things and constrained by your inborn endowments. Though you live amid the daily workings of life, you do not know that the Dao is right there within them. The saying “within emptiness, it responds with shining clarity” means that the Dao’s response becomes plainly apparent in what seems empty and void. Yet facing everything before you, you lose your way at every step.

I now rely on the teachings of the founders of the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—and, moved by compassion for all beings and the wish to benefit them, have no choice but to say these things at length. I therefore urge all beings: there is no second Dao. If you claim that there are two different Ways, you have departed from the path of Mahayana right awakening, the practice that leads to the vastness of true awakening.

That spark of spiritual awareness within you is also called “Wisdom-Life,” the inner clarity and root of life. The two are originally one and the same. Wisdom-Life is merely another name for the body of the Dao; both arise from the same source. Though they share one source, they have different names. Thus it is said, “containing three while embracing one”: it holds three aspects, yet all return to a single whole. Wisdom-Life is manifest at every moment, yet you cannot see its form; it is hidden at every instant, yet you do not know where it is. It teaches the Dharma day after day, yet you cannot hear its voice. Are you not like someone searching everywhere for fire while standing beside a lamp, or looking for an ox while riding on its back?

Everyone, why do I urge you to protect it? Because I fear that you do not recognize this wisdom or understand that it is the inner numinous treasure. I know well that you often go against it. Who can truly understand its meaning, unless they are an experienced cultivator who has realized their nature? Are you not fools searching for fire beside a lamp and looking for an ox while riding on its back?

Disciples, why do I teach you to protect this life of wisdom? I worry that you do not recognize this wisdom: it is the Numinous Treasure, the wondrous spiritual treasure honored in Daoism. I know you well. You are quick to turn against it; you are neither seasoned practitioners who have clarified the mind and realized their true nature, nor venerable Daoist masters who understand the principles. Even if you encounter it, you do not know how to use it. And even if you happen to put it to use, you cannot bring its power fully to bear.

Once this life of wisdom is lost, it is like the Primordial Heavenly Worthy leaving his seat, the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan losing the Mysterious Pearl, Patriarch Tieguai Li losing his crutch, or Master Tongxuan Zhang Guolao losing his black donkey. At that point, you will have words you cannot speak and can only touch your nose in vain. Though thoughts arise in your heart, it will be as if you have no way to make them work: you will lack flexibility and clarity, and lose this wisdom in a state of confusion.

I say this to carry forward the Primordial Heavenly Worthy’s original intention in proclaiming the Great Dao, and to honor the compassionate virtue of Patriarch Qiu, Qiu Chuji of the Quanzhen tradition, who cared for all living beings. May these words pour over your heads like ghee, the finest nectar of wondrous teachings, and awaken you. You must urgently investigate and discover the subtle principles for preserving life and prolonging it. Have you not heard of the Supreme Taishang Scripture of Numinous Treasure from the Cavern Mystery on Dispelling Calamities and Protecting Life? If you can turn from delusion to awakening through this scripture, your life of wisdom will continue without end, generation after generation.

Simply reciting the scripture’s title by rote and thinking that this counts as honoring it does not mean you have truly understood it. Those who honor it in this way forget it as soon as they have recited it and do not reflect on its meaning. The scripture says: “You beings, from time without beginning, have had your minds and spirits continually controlled by your bodies, while your thoughts shift with the objects and circumstances around you. You are immersed in emotional attachments without pause, drifting along the river of love and desire and sinking into the sea of craving. You cling to the illusory, visible body and forget your original face. The Dao has no form, yet you insist that it has form; the Dao is not mere nothingness, yet you cling to emptiness. Your understanding of emptiness and form is confused: you mistake being for nonbeing and nonbeing for being, and in the end cannot understand yourselves. How, then, can you leave the sea of desire, free yourselves from attachment to the illusory body, and recover your original face? How can you escape birth and death and break free from the cycle of rebirth?

“If someone understands that emptiness is not annihilation, and that form is not something real and unchanging; if that person does not cling to a view of emptiness and can leave behind all doubts and errors, then the six faculties—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—will be purified, and obstacles will be removed. This is the central teaching of our tradition, and it should be proclaimed and transmitted. That is why this scripture is called the Scripture of Protecting Life. It enables people to attain the Dao and its teachings, save living beings everywhere, spread the teachings throughout the world, and make them widely available for circulation, reading, and recitation. Those who read, recite, and transmit this scripture will have myriads of Flying Heavenly Spirit Kings, Vajras Who Destroy Heresy, numinous children who protect the Dao, perfected beings who relieve suffering, golden-eyed fierce beasts, and countless others guarding it, so that all beings may each free themselves from these attachments.”

Everyone, how can a body made of flesh and blood understand what is emptiness and what is not emptiness, what is form and what is not form? How can it grasp the principle that transcends emptiness and existence, see clearly without obstruction, and enter the many subtle realms? So I will first explain the profound and wondrous principles in the scripture, to safeguard your wisdom-life—the wisdom and spiritual life of those who cultivate the Dao.

The ancestral masters of old, in their compassion, worried that their disciples would mistake the body of flesh and blood for their true selves. They wanted people to understand that emptiness has its own principle within nonexistence, form has its own principle within form, existence has its own principle within existence, and emptiness has its own principle within emptiness. Do not let this illusory body control and manipulate you, keeping you ceaselessly busy and confused until you lose sight of the fundamental purpose and forfeit the treasure of wisdom. Therefore, everyone should nourish their own spiritual root—the inner foundation for cultivating the Dao—and strengthen that foundation. When it is firm, the Dao can grow.

The noble person follows the principles of Heaven and so preserves life. To make no distinction between a short life and a long one is to continue life. The noble person serves the Dao of Heaven and so keeps the wisdom-life enduring, allowing life to continue from generation to generation and to flow through the work of transformation and nurture. In the end, they realize a body as indestructible as diamond and complete the true, eternal Dharmakaya—the awakened body beyond the flesh, free of afflictions and their harm.

Everyone, the scriptures in the “Three Caverns and Four Divisions” (the Daoist system for classifying its canonical texts), along with the 5,300 writings of revealed truth, all explain how to prolong life and preserve one’s life, escape calamities, and transcend the world. Clinging to outward forms cannot truly preserve life. Realizing true emptiness is the way to prolong it.

Wisdom-nature—the awakened nature—and wisdom-life—the inner spiritual life—cannot be separated. The light of wisdom is the lamp of insight. For this light to shine continually, wisdom-life must be settled and enduring. Its endurance depends on stillness and concentration: when the mind grows quiet, the lamp of insight naturally shines. Realizing Suchness, the true and unchanging nature, is like having a lamp that shines without cease; through your own awakening, you can also guide all beings. “Light” has no visible substance, and “brightness” is not something that can be given a precise name. It is already within life; “light and brightness” simply describe the state in which wisdom awakens.

Form and emptiness are aspects of the world’s changes between life and death. Only by realizing emptiness can one preserve and prolong life. To prolong life is to transcend the cycles of calamity; once these cycles have been transcended, why cling to the names “life” and “death”? Beings drift through life and death, enduring calamities over and over, only because they have lost sight of wisdom. The lamp and light of wisdom can shine everywhere. You should quickly understand the conditions that make the cultivation of precepts possible. I will try to explain the subtle method of preserving and prolonging life, guiding you through the principle of stillness and emptiness.

A scripture says: “Put it to use without seeing it, and life can be preserved; see it but be unable to put it to use, and life can be prolonged.” The key to cultivation here is this: remove only the mind’s deluded activity, not its awareness, and life can be prolonged; remove only the mind’s clinging and fixation, and settle the mind in empty stillness, and life can be preserved. When life can be prolonged, wisdom-life will not be cut off, and the Great Medicine—a key term in Neidan cultivation—can be refined. When life can be preserved, one can realize birthlessness, and the Great Elixir, the fruition of Neidan cultivation, can be refined.

“Heaven’s mandate is not unchanging: by doing good, one receives it; by doing what is not good, one loses it.” “People receive their mandate from Heaven and should cherish the luminous mandate Heaven has bestowed. Zhou was an old state, yet its mandate could be renewed again and again.” These words all express the true principles of preserving and prolonging life: the Great Dao that establishes nature and life.

If you can understand this much, you will have grasped its subtle principle. I now reveal this supreme treasure without reservation, laying out its hidden mystery plainly in four lines of verse for you to ponder carefully:

“The span of life is set according to its own measure; coming to life and passing away, there was never a fixed, unchanging ‘life.’ To prolong and preserve life, no special method need be sought elsewhere. Realize that all things return to Wuwei (non-action), and you will enter the realm of the Dharma King.”

Disciples, yesterday I explained that the substance of the Dao is Wuwei (non-action), and that the Dharma Body—the awakened, true life that transcends physical form—is real. Understand that the substance of the Dao does not lie outside the body and mind of everyday life; the Dharma Body, too, is present within the physical body. The physical body, firm and solid, is the adornment of outward merit achieved through action; the pure Dharma Body is the adornment of inward merit achieved through non-action. When both inner and outer are pure and both can be realized, one may attain spiritual liberation and the supreme realm of true emptiness: luminous, vast, complete, and unsurpassed. The myriad spirits come to pay homage, one can command thunder, and one receives the protection of the Three Realms and the welcome of the Five Emperors. Wisdom then penetrates all things with perfect clarity. This is not attained through the cultivation of merit achieved by deliberate action.

Disciples, guard Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and nourish the primordial Qi: Qi will settle, and Jing will gather. Regulate the breath and circulate Qi, keeping the firing process balanced; Jing will then transform into Qi, which steams through the Four Great Elements—earth, water, fire, and wind that constitute body and mind—and brings the myriad spirits into harmony. When the true fire gives off no smoke, Qi becomes clear; when the spirit-water does not spill away, Shen (spirit) becomes still. Clear Qi transforms into Shen; still Shen joins with the realm of emptiness. When stillness and emptiness reach their utmost, primordial reality returns. Through the “Nine Cycles of Return and Seven Reversals,” a Neidan (internal alchemy) teaching about the circulation of Jing and Qi and their return to the source, one returns to the root of life. Once returned to the root, the foundation of life is secure and true nature preserved. When true nature is preserved, the substance of the Dao appears; when the substance of the Dao appears, the Dharma Body is revealed.

Disciples, this means realizing the substance of the Dao, which is Wuwei, through cultivation that involves action, and cultivating the useful Dharma Body through what may seem useless. The physical body has a lifespan; the Dharma Body has a life of wisdom. Heaven determines the lifespan, which we cannot control, so the physical body undergoes the cycles of birth and death and the turning of tribulations. The life of wisdom is cultivated by oneself, rather than determined by Heaven, so the Dharma Body possesses power and freedom, liberated without obstruction. The physical body’s lifespan is limited, and fixed karma is difficult to escape: when Heaven decrees that a person die, die they must. The Dharma Body’s life of wisdom, however, is endless. With vast spiritual powers, it realizes birthlessness forever. This is true longevity.

Disciples, even if the physical body lives for ten thousand years, it can only be called a strange and uncanny thing, not one that has attained the Dao. The Dharma Body, by contrast, is always present, coming and going. “If one hears the Dao in the morning, one may die content in the evening”—these are a sage’s earnest words about seeking the Dao. Though the Dharma Body dies, it does not perish, and so it is called long-lived. After the physical body dies, it must undergo birth and death again and again; this is impermanence. If one can realize the Dharma Body, even those whose lives are short and impermanent can attain longevity. But clinging to the physical body only keeps a life that could have endured for a long time trapped in the cycle of rebirth.

In sum, see through the physical body, let every anxiety fall into stillness and emptiness, and cultivate with sincerity and diligence, free of worldly thoughts. Do not let the physical body bind the Dharma Body; instead, see through the physical body and liberate the Dharma Body. In this way, the Dharma Wheel—the image of proclaiming and transmitting the teachings—can turn without ceasing, and the fortunes of the Dao can flourish. Today, the expounding and spreading of the teachings and the propagation of the Great Dao depend entirely on the Dharma Wheel’s unceasing turn. If we are to restore the radiance of the Patriarchs’ Dao, who will protect it unless we point out the Dharma Body that all beings inherently possess? If the teachings are not spread, the Dao cannot be made clear; if the principles are not clear, the teachings cannot be put into practice; if the teachings cannot be put into practice, the Dao cannot be propagated. The sage said, “A person can make the Dao great; the Dao cannot make a person great.” If each of you recognizes those who propagate the Dao, puts its methods into practice, and explains the key to understanding its principles, why worry that the Dao lineage will fail to flourish or the Patriarchs’ tradition decline?

When I was young, I had little schooling and limited experience. I did not understand Confucian or Buddhist learning, yet I devoted myself to visiting and studying Daoist teachings. For decades I traveled throughout the world, intent on investigating the source of the Dao. What I examined was my own innate knowing; what I questioned was the wisdom people possess from birth. By examining inwardly over a long period, innate knowing came to light in the depths of my heart. By probing deeply into my nature, wisdom arose in a mind that was quiet, clear, and empty. With a true master within, why should I not receive visitors and respond to the affairs of the world? Since the true lineage of the Dao resides within me, I am willing to explain its teachings and spread the Great Dao.

Students, I am not skilled at writing, and I feel deeply ashamed of how little I know of the works collected in the Three Caverns Jade Collection (a compilation of Daoist scriptures). In my youth I read some alchemical texts, but I failed to copy down the precious formulas handed down by the Immortals and perfected beings. I am naturally indolent and fond of ease and quiet. I often contemplated the life-root of wisdom—the source of human life and the foundation of cultivation—and deeply experienced “the rarefied and obscure,” the state in which the Dao is subtle, unseen, and unheard. I set aside all affairs and held fast to the true source, the fundamental vital energy of life and cultivation. Where, then, would I have found time to read Confucian books or study alchemical texts? So even now I remain unskilled at writing, awkward in speech and slow with words. I can only use plain, simple language to tell you a little about these supreme words of truth and most secret mysteries.

Yet the Dao is originally without words, so why speak of it? The scriptures do not require deliberate study, so why hold lectures? The teachings prize Wuwei (non-action), so why add more activities? Everyone already has the Dao; it has never been apart from anyone, even for an instant. Whether at home or in religious life, people can awaken and investigate the Dao. Why, then, must they leave the world, become monastics, and travel in search of teachers and friends? It is only because people do not understand the great matter of life and death that they wander everywhere, traveling to the ends of the earth to seek a way to return to the source and restore the root of life.

Fortunately, the Jade Clarity, Supreme Clarity, and Great Clarity—the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), revered realms in Daoism—transmitted scriptures and expounded the teachings. They established religious communities and altars, proclaimed Daoist methods, and passed down their lineages, which have continued from generation to generation to this day. In Confucianism, Zhou Dunyi, the two Cheng brothers, Zhang Zai, and Zhu Xi carried forward the essential meaning of the sages’ classics and clarified the key to cultivating the mind. In Buddhism, the Diamond Sutra, Śūraṅgama Sutra, and Heart Sutra expound the truth of the Buddha’s teaching, along with profound principles for purifying body and mind and freeing oneself from desire. The shared aim of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism is the Way of nature and life—the cultivation of human nature and the roots of life. All three cherish the intention to show compassion, relieve suffering, and save living beings.

Today I am fortunate to have entered the lineage of Patriarch Qiu (Qiu Chuji). In keeping with Daoist tradition, I simply expound the treasures of the teaching and pass on and clarify its teachings. Students, I am an ordinary person. I have no supernatural powers and know only the practices of daily cultivation. I teach people to awaken for the sake of those in the Daoist community who uphold the precepts and practice sincerely. I am not like those who peddle secret formulas and use them as an excuse to solicit alms while idling and living off others. Nor do I believe such people can understand the great matter of life and death. So I can only summon my resolve and keep the salvation of all beings in mind: to strengthen the religious community above and benefit living beings below. Everything I do is for all of you, not for myself.

Our Longmen lineage, a major branch of Quanzhen Daoism (Complete Perfection), began to flourish in teaching the Dao during the Yuan dynasty, starting with Patriarch Qiu (Qiu Chuji). Four hundred years have passed since then. It is rare to meet people of outstanding virtue, and just as rare to find people with steadfast resolve.

I now live in a time when Daoism is in decline. Yet for thirty years I have devoted myself to upholding the precepts, following the rules, and traveling far and wide in search of the truth. Heaven answered my wish: I met my master on Mount Wangwu and later received the transmission of the teachings on Mount Jiugong. These experiences spanned more than twenty years. Later, the fortunes of the Dao brightened. I was fortunate to live in the flourishing age of the present dynasty, when officials and gentry were glad to do good, and scholars and merchants were willing to make offerings. Fellow seekers with the right affinity also found their moment and were able to take refuge and cultivate. So I established an ordination platform in the capital and transmitted the precepts. Over eight years, many practitioners were moved to follow this path. Monastics and laypeople alike, all who had the right affinity, came to take refuge, uphold the precepts, practice meditation, and enter the Daoist tradition of purity and mystery.

I have only relied on this small measure of innate spiritual clarity and cultivated with silent sincerity. Through Heaven’s grace and protection, I received this opportunity and, presumptuously, ascended the Dharma seat to serve, however inadequately, as a preceptor who transmits the precepts. As for vigorously spreading the mysterious teachings and establishing places of practice far and wide, that has always been my most modest wish.

Do not believe mistaken teachings that sow confusion and invite ridicule. Nor should you cling rigidly to your meditation cushion, keep your mouth shut and your teeth clenched, and put on the appearance of a Daoist practitioner. In time, this will only hold you back. Such people say that one should “remain still at all times.” But what, then, are they prepared to meet? If they cannot attend to cultivating their own life and nature, how can they attend to anyone else’s?

Listen carefully: the precepts and scriptures both come from the Daozang, the Daoist Canon. The precepts are transmitted according to liturgical procedure; this is no falsehood. The teachings are proclaimed to save living beings. Those who are confused should not slander them. I urge fellow practitioners to broaden their hearts, endure humiliation, cultivate the true Dao, and work together to spread the teachings. Only by cultivating meditative stability and wisdom together can one deepen one’s blessings and virtue. Save living beings everywhere and help them escape suffering.

After receiving the precepts, first remove the obstacles. When they are cleared away, the light within the heart will appear. Do not worry that your wisdom is not bright enough. If you carefully gather in your radiance and nurture your life, wisdom can endure. Cultivation should not cling to prolonging the body’s life or become absorbed in illusory appearances. Remain pure, simple, and tranquil; learn Wuwei (non-action, following nature without contrivance), so that your wisdom-life may continue and return to the vast realm of the Dao.

If you cling only to preserving the body, you will fail to understand that the body must eventually die, or what kind of life truly endures. If you refuse to save others and seek liberation only for yourself, how can you expect the immortal masters to deliver us? Who prepared the clothes you wear and the meals you enjoy freely? The stores of rice and flour you have accumulated are as abundant as mountains. How can you consume them lightly? To enjoy these things without thinking of repayment is like a drop of water swelling into a raging flood; in the end, you will fall into Avici, the deepest and most terrible Buddhist hell, and suffer there.

Some people deceive their followers into making offerings so they can live comfortably, with warm clothes and full meals. They speak honeyed words, claim they have already attained the Dao, and say they will take their followers with them to ascend and save them. Hearing this, those who support the religious center make offerings even more diligently, foolishly hoping for a miracle like refining gold from water. But how many ordinary people truly awaken to the Dao? And who can say exactly what year or month they will ascend?

Those with wisdom and understanding do not envy others. In quiet retreat, cultivate through Wuwei and first seek your own deliverance. In action, spread the Dao’s teachings and save your fellow practitioners. A thousand words come down, in the end, to a single word: “awakening.” Awakening to the Dao is for the sake of saving all beings; the resolve to save them must be sincere and steadfast. Spread the Great Dao and clarify its teachings, so that the way of the ancestral masters may be carried forward. Guide people through the Dao of liberation and true emptiness, bringing their hearts and nature into harmony.

Seventeen: Delivering and Helping People in Life

Disciples, I proclaim the teachings and spread the Great Dao not for myself, nor for the sake of the religious community itself, but to realize the Great Dao, follow the way of Heaven, and help and deliver living beings. If the sages of the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—had not acted for the sake of living beings, why would they have founded religious traditions, transmitted scriptures, established altars and taught the Dao, clarified the truth, and used many skillful means with such boundless compassion?

Disciples, Confucians revere Confucius as the Supreme Sage and First Teacher. His virtue accorded with the Way of Heaven and Earth, and he brought together the learning of the sages of antiquity. In dealing with affairs, he was neither rigid nor arbitrary: he considered others as well as himself. He edited the Book of Documents, organized the rites and music, expounded the Book of Changes, and taught people through ritual. Everywhere, he promoted the instruction embodied in the Spring and Autumn Annals, while filial piety, benevolence, and righteousness were upheld throughout the land. He passed the Confucian tradition on to Zengzi and Mencius, shouldering the task of transmitting Confucian learning. He became the teacher of Confucians through the ages and a guiding teacher for the people. If Zengzi and Mencius had not carried Confucian learning forward in the Zhou dynasty, and Cheng Hao, Cheng Yi, and Zhu Xi had not elucidated and safeguarded it in the Song dynasty, how could Confucianism exist today?

Buddhism came from the west through the Buddha Shakyamuni. He once practiced austerities in the Snow Mountains, renouncing his kingdom and family, disciplining body and mind, and bringing his cultivation to completion. He realized that the Five Aggregates—the five kinds of elements that make up body and mind—are all empty, purified the Six Faculties (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind), and manifested many wondrous forms of the Dharma, appearing in transformation throughout the worlds in the ten directions. In the time of Emperor Ming of the Han, it is said that the emperor dreamed of a golden figure, after which a white horse carried Buddhist scriptures from the west. According to tradition, when Buddhism arrived in the East it brought 5,048 volumes of scripture, including the Diamond Sutra. As Buddhism spread in the East, the Buddha came to be honored as the Tathāgata, and the Dharma lineage continued through the Sixth Patriarch. Buddhist temples were held in reverence, and the Buddha was venerated as the Awakened One in a golden body, with the compassion of the Mahayana as the highest teaching. If the Buddha had not passed down the scriptures, how could people today so widely honor images of the Buddha and the Arhats?

The Dao (the Way) has its foundation in the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the supreme deities revered in Daoism. Vast and boundless, it is difficult to put into words; exalted and profound, it cannot be measured. The scriptures are wondrous and hidden, passed down from generation to generation by sages and perfected beings. They appeared in the world to teach through their own example, devoting long years to guiding people with care so that they might leave the sea of suffering. Across the generations, they also supported the world. This teaching was transmitted by the Three Officials—the Heavenly Official, Earthly Official, and Water Official—and its altar was established to preach the Dao at the Five Poles.

Patriarch Lü of Pure Yang, Lü Dongbin, an immortal revered in Daoism, held the office of teacher to the Three Teachings. He transmitted the lineage and wielded the command of the Five Thunders, the authority to command thunder and perform thunder rites. He appeared in many places, opening wide the wondrous gates of the mystery. Compassionate and benevolent, he honored filial piety and coveted no fame or rank; he left behind only the Daoist teachings and the legacy of incense offerings.

He transmitted the Daoist teachings to Patriarch Qiu, Qiu Chuji. Patriarch Qiu diligently cultivated the Great Dao and upheld benevolence and virtue. In the palace halls, he received the alchemical writings in reverence. He founded a lineage and transmitted precepts, bringing the pure and tranquil discipline of the Longmen school, an important branch of Quanzhen Daoism, to prominence. Through many hardships, he vowed to save and guide the people. He was honored as the Perfected Lord of Eternal Spring and was later repeatedly granted the title Celestial Worthy of Luminous Response.

His grace reaches across all realms of the Dharma, allowing all beings to receive its benefits. Cultivating merit and establishing De (Virtue/Power), and displaying all manner of spiritual powers, serve the purpose of rescuing and guiding beings so that they may all move toward the Great Dao together.