《碧苑坛经》Vol. 3

Everyone, to help the world and guide people to liberation, you must be sincere and wholehearted. First cultivate your own liberation, then guide others. The teachings cannot flourish today, and the profound, hidden traditions have yet to fulfill their true purpose, because this fundamental failing has never been remedied.

Why can the Great Dao not be widely practiced, and why are religious communities declining day by day? It is simply because some people in the Quanzhen tradition “cannot attain liberation themselves, yet only wish to liberate others.” These eight words are the root of wrongdoing, and they can also ruin the purpose and discipline of the Quanzhen community. Everyone, if those who proclaim the teachings do not practice them themselves but first urge others to follow them, who will be convinced?

What does it mean for Quanzhen practitioners to be unable to liberate themselves? Everyone, guiding living beings to liberation also means guiding the living beings within your own mind. What are these beings within your mind? They are distracting thoughts and delusions. The minds of Quanzhen practitioners are filled with countless delusions and distractions, like countless living beings. From morning to night, though the body sits on a meditation cushion, the mind wanders into the world. As soon as one delusive thought fades, another arises. The seven emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure among them—cannot be calmed; desires and attachments do not leave. The Three Poisons of greed, anger, and ignorance entangle the mind and spirit, while the eight consciousnesses—a Buddhist and Daoist classification of mental activity—turn the mind toward confusion.

Delusive thoughts are like drifting clouds that cover the sun, coming and going without pause. The mind is like wild waves whipped up by the wind, surging in every direction. From morning to night, when is there even a moment of stillness? Day after day, year after year, it is hard to settle even a single thought. This is true not only while sitting on a meditation cushion, but also when walking along the road; even in sleep, when do you truly set aside delusive thoughts and hold fast to right awareness?

If the mind and spirit cannot grow still, you cannot liberate yourself; if your thoughts cannot become single-minded, you cannot understand the Dao. Quanzhen practitioners must therefore quiet delusive thoughts and calm the mind and spirit. Only then can the Heavenly Mind—the clear and pure original mind—emerge, and the light of wisdom shine forth. Everyone, if you can do this, you may truly be called fellow cultivators who share the same aspiration. First guide yourself to liberation, then guide others. It is never too late to begin.

“What has already been attained through this degree of cultivation?” What other qualities are needed for practice? They are firmness, courage, diligence, renunciation, giving, clarity, humility, liberation, and naturalness. Disciples, gather your attention and still your minds in contemplation. Fellow seekers who are here by affinity, listen carefully as I explain these nine essentials of the Dao one by one.

What is meant by “firmness”? The methods of spiritual cultivation run counter to ordinary life; they follow a different course and are difficult to reconcile with it. To work on the Dharma Body—the pure original nature spoken of in cultivation—you must first see clearly that the myriad appearances of the world and the physical body are unreal. You must be able to let go of affection for your children and wife, and feel no attachment to worldly pleasures such as fame, wealth, fine food, luxurious clothes, and fine horses. To devote yourself to escaping delusion and affliction, hold fast to a tranquil resolve, and remain unmoved by external things: this is called “firmness.” It is also called the “Demon-Subduing Pestle,” a ritual implement for overcoming demonic obstacles, or the “Demon-Slaying Platform,” a metaphor for cutting down evil influences.

What is meant by “courage”? Do not hesitate or let your thoughts waver; otherwise, you will lose command of yourself, and the light within your heart will sometimes appear and sometimes be obscured. Let your heart shine clear and bright like the autumn moon, and your spirit glow like the light of dawn. Do not procrastinate or grow lax, drift with the current, act carelessly, or change your course from one day to the next. Practitioners should open their minds wide and let their vision become clear at once. Work on the heart, set aside worldly entanglements, apply yourself diligently to the Dao, and subdue misguided thoughts. Do not remain ignorant of life’s impermanence and the swift approach of death; clear away obstacle after obstacle and understand the karmic outcomes represented by heaven and hell. Thus, after firmness, there must also be courage.

What is meant by “diligence”? It means applying yourself rigorously to cultivation and subduing misguided thoughts. You must not remain heedless of life’s impermanence and the swift approach of death. Persist in inquiry as though drilling through walls of iron and bronze, until you understand the principles of heaven and hell. Disciples, after firmness, you must therefore go further and cultivate diligence.

What is “diligent practice”? It means using steadfast will to let go of affection and resentment, cultivating the mind and nature, and settling one’s life; it means using a vigorous spirit to subdue scattered thoughts and correct wavering indecision, bringing the spirit to calm clarity.

What is diligent practice at a deeper level? Those who study the Way must investigate life and death: Where were you before this body was born? And where will you go after it dies?

Everything in heaven and earth, and everything in daily life, is within the Dao; nothing can exist apart from it. Things have roots and branches: this is their arising and passing away. Events have beginnings and endings: this, too, is their arising and passing away. If you devote yourself to contemplation and painstaking inquiry, and understand the roots and branches of things, you can come to know your own life and death. If you understand the beginnings and endings of events, you can see clearly how thoughts arise and fade within the mind.

Examine concrete things closely and grasp them in practice. Extend your understanding from one thing to all things, and from one event to all events, discerning the principles and turning points of their arising, passing away, and transformation. In this way, roots and branches, life and death, and the arising and fading of thoughts can be brought together as a single discipline of practice. Only then do you begin to approach the Dao. Next, quiet your mind to observe the Great Dao, investigate its subtleties deeply, discern its hidden and profound principles, grasp its mysterious workings, silently recognize the mind of Heaven, and inwardly accord with the Dao’s fundamental purpose. Only then can you keep the mind’s spark of open, luminous awareness from being obscured, trace the sources and connections of things, meet the myriad things without confusion, and handle all affairs without error.

If you refuse diligent practice and instead grow lax and indolent, you abandon yourself and willingly sink to the level of a lowly ghost, with no resolve to undertake genuine cultivation. Even if you sat in meditation for a hundred years and extended your life for a thousand, you still could not escape life’s end; you would fall once more into the cycle of rebirth.

What does “discarding” mean? It means abandoning coarse and vulgar practices from the past, completely leaving behind deviant paths and heterodox teachings, and from then on beginning one’s cultivation anew, wholeheartedly and reverently seeking the Dao. This true lineage, empty and numinous, clear and pure, never clouded or obscured, is called the “Primordial Supreme Treasure”—the fundamental and highest treasure. It transforms in myriad ways and has no fixed form. In the presence of different things and circumstances, it is applied in different ways and responds without any set pattern. Its workings can appear everywhere, yet at every moment remain elusive. Only by following the subtle, nimble workings of the moment and investigating them layer by layer can one continue to probe the mysteries of the Dao.

Its transformations reveal themselves without ceasing; its use is inexhaustible, and its workings never stop. Those who understand it can naturally experience it, while the benighted remain far removed from it. Even if you have already grasped a little of its principles, you should hold fast to them and continue your inquiry. Do not abandon them to seek another kind of understanding; if you do, your thoughts will become fickle and unstable. You should use an enduring, unchanging numinous principle to respond to things that change without end. In this way, you can understand the principles and reveal your nature. As you leave the old behind and take the new as your model, you can deepen your understanding layer by layer and advance step by step toward a higher state. If you cannot stand firmly on your own, how will you penetrate profound workings, perceive life and death, transcend the ordinary world, and unravel the roots of doubts accumulated over many lifetimes?

What is meant by giving? For example, the key insights realized yesterday, the subtle principles understood in the past, the truths one has personally grasped and attained—these may be given to all beings, or gathered into a “grain of millet,” a Daoist metaphor for what is tiny and exceedingly subtle. In either case, one must not cling to them or hold on to them, lest they disturb one’s spiritual platform—that is, one’s mind and inner spirit. It is said that thoughts of the past cannot be grasped, thoughts of the future cannot be grasped, and thoughts of the present cannot be grasped either. When, amid the ungraspability of all three kinds of thought, one also comes to experience a subtle principle that arises naturally, the light of wisdom is perfected.

Giving material goods is called cultivating blessings; giving the Daoist teachings is called cultivating wisdom. Material giving can be exhausted, but the teachings of the Dao that I expound can be given without end. Giving material goods can help people manage their worldly lives, provide the food and clothing needed to sustain the body, and bring them outward respectability. Once those goods are spent, people are left empty-handed again. Giving the Daoist teachings, by contrast, can serve both worldly affairs and cultivation beyond the world. It can also help people dispel confusion and raise their spiritual capacity.

The “giving of wealth” spoken of here, however, does not mean ordinary worldly possessions. Everything that sustains life, helps others, provides urgent aid and relief in danger, wards off disasters, secures the state and brings peace to the people, as well as the boundless subtle powers that marshal Water and Fire, avert calamity and resolve misfortune, proclaim Heaven’s transforming influence, apply Yin-Yang, and connect Heaven and Earth—all of this is called “wealth.” Here, “wealth” means ability, as in the name Sudhana, the young attendant of the Bodhisattva Guanyin, the Great Being of the Southern Seas.

Ah, you should understand: to seek treasures from Heaven, one must use wealth from the world. The worldly “wealth” spoken of here is not ordinary material possessions. It is the wealth of the teachings one uses to guide and save others. Called “spiritual treasures,” it can therefore elicit heavenly treasures. What one does in daily life is give through the Daoist teachings. Those who understand this are accomplished people endowed with innate wisdom, having passed through ten thousand kalpas.

What does it mean to be truly discerning? Since one can give subtle teachings and guide and transform all beings, one must have genuine insight and wisdom that is thoroughly penetrating. What one does in daily life is give through the Daoist teachings. Those who understand this are accomplished people endowed with innate wisdom, having passed through ten thousand kalpas.

What does it mean to be truly discerning? If one is able to impart wondrous teachings and guide living beings toward liberation, one must possess truly discerning insight and penetrating wisdom.

All things under Heaven and Earth have their own spiritual nature. If you regard your own method as the only correct one, you are attached to a method. To cling to a single method and treat it as an unchanging rule is to make it rigid and lifeless; it can no longer be called a flexible, living approach, and it shows that your insight is not yet sufficiently discerning. If you impose your own approach on everyone and use fixed, unchanging principles to deal with every situation, you will seem stiff and dull—like trying to row a boat that has been moored to a post, or play a zither with its bridges fixed in place.

So do not assume that your own method must be right and everyone else’s wrong. Be fair-minded and open; offer guidance as the moment calls for it, observe the circumstances before acting, and explain things flexibly. Teach each person in a way suited to them. When teaching those who are slow to understand, use terms they can grasp so that, little by little, they come to understand and hear the meaning. Also assess what they are capable of and whether they can put it into practice, then guide them gradually toward insight. It is just as ill-suited to speak to the perceptive only in terms meant for those who are slow to understand.

You must understand the feelings of both self and others, and speak in a way that people of refined and ordinary tastes can accept. Use a flexible, accommodating approach, so the perceptive can gain wisdom from it and the benevolent can recognize benevolence in it. Clear away what is blocked and settle those who are confused and unsettled; free the doubtful from perplexity, help the slow-witted become clear-minded, and let those who cannot hear hear, and those who cannot see see. Only then can you be called truly discerning, and fit to lead in rescuing and guiding living beings.

What is humility? When one’s cultivation truly reaches a certain level, meeting someone of insight brings forth a mind broad in wisdom and clear and empty. One is no longer attached to anything outside oneself or to any worldly affairs. One can shake Heaven’s Gate above and quake the earth’s axis below, transcend the world of dust, and let the spirit enter the realm of emptiness. At such a level, what living being before one could there still be to look down upon?

Since ancient times, Bodhisattvas of the Two Vehicles—those who cultivate the paths of the Hearer and the Solitary Realizer—and Immortals of the lesser vehicle have often been prone to this failing. Deeply harmed by it, they are often unaware of it themselves. For this reason, they are called people of inferior capacity in the Lesser Vehicle, followers of heterodox paths, or even practitioners of demonic arts. In truth, the Dao has no fixed form, and its wondrous transformations are beyond measure. How could people constrain, assess, or grasp it? How can finite beings presume to exalt themselves and claim to have understood the Great Dao?

Have you not heard that the Most High—a Daoist honorific for the Dao—does not dare place himself ahead of all beneath Heaven? He does not put himself first in claiming blessings, boast of his achievements, or display his cultivation. In advancing, he makes yielding his guiding principle; at the summit, he takes the lowly as his foundation. By placing himself behind, he preserves himself and comes to the fore. While others compete to lead, I alone yield. A person of high virtue does not consider himself virtuous; one of deep cultivation does not contend with others. He does not seek to be seen, nor act arrogantly, assert his own importance, or show off his strength. The more he gives to others, the richer he becomes; the more he helps others, the more he gains.

I do not know what to call the Dao, so I reluctantly call it “the Dao.” Thus, the higher one’s attainment, the more one must practice humility and yielding. Preserve an honest and generous character through humility, compassion, and gentleness: extend kindness and wisdom widely, while tempering one’s brilliance and nurturing one’s inner light. A state’s sharpest weapons should not be displayed lightly. A cultivator does not rely on force to win people over; people naturally come to follow willingly. At this point, one must understand the principle of liberation.

What is liberation? Everyone, those who cling to things do not understand the Dao and De. Truly liberated people are free and at ease, unbound by rules and ideas. They are not weighed down by external things, and their hearts hold no cares. They are whole and well rounded, able to teach in response to different circumstances. Their light shines bright; through the passage of long ages, they continue to save living beings. They enter the many gates of mystery and become the fundamental refuge of all beings.

They cherish all things, yet do not regard cherishing all things as compassion. They gladly help others, yet do not regard helping others as goodness. The wondrous teaching can save living beings, yet saving living beings is not what makes it wondrous. The highest Dao can free people from the worldly, yet freedom from the worldly is not what makes it the supreme Dao. Those who are liberated can help beings escape suffering and also endure suffering themselves.

They can rise beyond the heavens, yet do not regard the celestial palaces as a final home of happiness. They can descend to offer aid throughout the underworld, yet do not regard it as a place of affliction. When they encounter suffering, they help people leave it behind; when they encounter joy, they share it with everyone. Amid comfort and ease, they can remind beings to see suffering; amid hardship, they can point the way toward hope and peace.

In the heavens, they save heavenly dragons, ghosts, and spirits, enabling them to hear the Way of true awakening, transcend, and fulfill the work of the Immortal Way. In the underworld, they save the spirits of the dead burdened by grave misdeeds, allowing souls in the shadowy realm to see the light and be reborn among humankind. In the human world, they save all virtuous men and women, guiding them to cultivate the Way in daily life: to act naturally and uprightly, to be loyal and trustworthy, to be fair, and to follow the noble path.

They do not teach people in the many trades and callings—scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants—to practice inferior, narrow arts. Nor do they let them manipulate their Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit), fall into the deviant path of possession, or become embroiled in Asura-like struggles. The key to the practice of liberation is to reach a state of natural action, freedom, and unobstructed ease. This is the Way of freedom.

What is meant by “naturalness”? Everyone, the wondrous principle of naturalness is expressed in the Heart Sutra as “the Bodhisattva Who Contemplates Freedom.” This is Guanyin, the Bodhisattva who listens to the sounds of the world. When you grasp the wondrous principle of naturalness, you can freely observe and illuminate things for yourself. This Bodhisattva is both within my heart and Guanyin of the South Sea.

By contemplating the wondrous aspect of the pure, true emptiness on the far shore, and understanding the principle of empty, uncontrived naturalness, you can see the wondrous aspect revealed by the true sounds. Without a true teacher’s guidance, how could you awaken to the wondrous aspect of true emptiness?

Everyone! “Form itself is emptiness; emptiness itself is form.” If you cling to either emptiness or form, the Dao is not true. The wondrous aspect of true emptiness embodies the constant Dao. It falls into neither emptiness nor attachment to form, and its wondrous principle is inexhaustible. It is one with the open expanse of space, with no distinction between them. It can enter metal and stone without being obstructed, and enter water and fire without being harmed.

Everyone, carefully investigate the Nine Chapters on the Essentials of the Dao, sit upright and maintain your seat on the meditation cushion, comprehend the various wondrous aspects, and follow the Dao of naturalness. When the three foundations of cultivation have all been verified, and your practice is complete, you will be able to guide others to liberation. Your merit will then be boundless, your De (Virtue/Power) sufficient to move the spirits; evil forces will be helpless, and demons will lose heart. If you sit on the cushion, comprehend the wondrous aspects, follow naturalness, complete the three foundations of cultivation, and guide others to liberation, why worry that people in the world will not be convinced and turn to the Dao?

This is the merit of practicing for the universal salvation of living beings, and the intention to help the world: practice diligently, first guide yourself to liberation, then use the precelestial Dao to guide others. With your whole heart devoted to the constant, true Dao, Bodhisattvas will naturally protect and guide you on your way. The wondrous classic of the Nine Chapters can help people transcend the mundane world. Its principle of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) must be studied deeply. Offer simple words and teach the true, wondrous principle. Cultivate nature and life together, sparing no effort. Those of keen insight speak often of principle, and treat others with kindness and humility, without boasting of their abilities. Let go of outward appearances and forget the distinction between self and other; follow the heart of Heaven and the Dao of true suchness. Roam freely in liberation, expound the mystery, and enter the wondrous Great Dao of supreme true emptiness. Even amid a tiny flame you will remain unharmed; the three surnames will unite. When your practice is complete, you may ascend into the clouds.

Eighteen: The Radiance of Wisdom.

You have already undertaken the three hundred major precepts of the Central Ultimate rank, an important level in the Daoist system of precepts. In your practice, you must act with care and observe even the smallest rules of conduct. These precepts are stricter than those of the Initial Perfection rank that you received before. Their provisions are detailed and profound; the key is to work on your own mind. Whenever a thought arises, keep your intentions sincere and upright, and remain vigilant and respectful. Observe your thoughts in secret, reflect on them, and stay alert. Make your mind broad, calm, balanced, and straightforward, and clear away distracting thoughts.

Your thoughts should be like the moon in a clear sky, without a veil of clouds; like crystal glass, without a flaw; like an boundless mirror, without a speck of dust; and like a luminous pearl, without darkness. Only when your mind is harmonious and steady, bright and clear, can you speak of the Dao.

The light of wisdom and the wondrous aspect of true emptiness—a subtle state that transcends form yet manifests—both arise originally from upholding the precepts and entering meditative stillness. You must endure and exercise restraint, remove obstacles, strictly observe the precepts, discipline yourself, and pass through trials. With the aid of methods that help regulate body and mind in practice, you can then reach this state.

Some people receive the precepts but rarely manage to uphold them in earnest. Their practice lacks care and discipline, and they deceive themselves and others. Such people can never succeed. Why? You should understand that lax practice plants the causes of leakage, which drain merit and obstruct the completion of practice. How, then, could you realize the fruit of Wuwei (non-action), a state free from the constraints of deliberate doing?

The phrase “the radiance of wisdom” describes a state attainable by those of superior spiritual capacity. Those of lesser capacity may find it difficult to grasp at first. They can still focus without distraction, gathering the spirit at the Qi cavity—the place where intention is held steady in Neidan practice—nurture the ancestral Qi, the fundamental original energy of cultivation, and gently nourish the innate Qi. When emptiness and stillness reach their utmost, and the mind is wholly devoted to abiding in quietude, the mind and spirit remain deeply inward and do not wander outward. From this supreme stillness, the movement of Taiji naturally arises, and the light of wisdom appears. When Yang Qi begins to stir, one may see one’s original nature.

To understand the states of ghosts and spirits and know the pivotal workings of creation is called “wisdom.” To take part in Heaven and Earth’s nurturing of all things, responding to the alternating light of the sun and moon and harmonizing with the seasons, is called “insight.” When the Dharma body—the pure ground realized through cultivation—appears everywhere and encompasses the entire realm of phenomena, with nothing beyond awareness and contemplation and all things gathered into radiance, this is called “light.” To penetrate all things without form, perceive them before any sign has emerged, fill the empty spaces without leaving a trace, and transcend the sun and moon without appearing as a shape or shadow is called “illumination.”

If the precepts are not observed strictly, one cannot attain settled stillness. Without settled stillness, wisdom will not arise; without wisdom, radiance cannot appear.

The one scroll of the Precious Scripture of the Jade Pivot directly explains human nature and points straight to the mind, bringing the principles of nature into clear view. It also reveals the essentials of cultivation, helping sentient beings realize the Dao through reciting the scripture. Yet those who are confused are many, while those who awaken are few. Some recite the words aloud but cannot hold them in their hearts; others are sincere in intention but lack the strength to transform themselves. In this way they betray the sage’s original intent and leave this Dharma treasure to be shown in vain. Therefore, I must explain the scripture’s subtle meaning on your behalf and point out how to set the true workings of cultivation in motion, so that you may all awaken clearly. Listen with reverence and full attention.

The scripture says: “One thousand five hundred kalpas ago, I encountered this Dao within my heart and thus became a Highest True One, a perfected person who had attained the Dao. By devoting myself to accumulating merit through cultivation, I came to preside over the teaching.”

It also says: “With a tranquil and pure heart, make vast vows; with the power of wisdom, subdue every kind of demonic obstacle.”

It also says: “You heavenly beings wish to hear the utmost Dao. The utmost Dao is profound and subtle; it is nowhere else. Since you wish to hear it, it is in the place where there is no separation. Where there is no separation and nothing visible—this is the true Dao. The distinction between hearing and seeing also disappears, leaving only yourself. Yet even you yourself must not be grasped as something real, let alone the Dao. If it can be understood without being heard, what Dao is there that can be spoken of?”

It also says: “The Dao takes sincerity as its gateway, silence as its steadfast practice, and gentleness as its way of working. To act with sincerity may look like dullness; to maintain silence may look like being slow of speech; to act gently may look like clumsiness. Cultivating in this way, one can forget the body and forget the self, until even the thought of ‘forgetting’ is no longer held in mind. One who enters the Dao knows how to still deluded desires; one who keeps to the Dao knows how to be cautious; one who puts the Dao to use knows how to attend to the subtle. When one can discern the subtle, the light of wisdom arises. When one can keep a cautious hold, sagely wisdom reaches completion. When one can still deluded desires, the mind becomes calm and settled. When the mind is settled, sagely wisdom can reach completion; when sagely wisdom is complete, the light of wisdom can arise; and when the light of wisdom arises, one can unite with the Dao. This is called true forgetting. To forget without forgetting means to forget until there is nothing left to forget. When there is nothing left to forget, that is the utmost Dao. The Dao exists between Heaven and Earth, though Heaven and Earth themselves do not know it. Sentient and insentient beings are, in the end, no different.”

It also says: “Those who truly awaken to the Dao can ascend the ranks of the immortals.” The phrase “enabling one to ascend the ranks of the immortals” means that a person may rise to a place among the immortals.

It also says: “Ignorance can be transformed into understanding, and murkiness into clarity; this depends on the ordering of Heaven’s mandate. Human ignorance and obscurity, muddiness and lack of clarity, also change with the endowment of one’s local environment. Heaven and Earth make the workings of this transformation so wondrous and unfathomable that people cannot perceive them; this is called naturalness. Even when people are made aware that they have yet to perceive these workings, it is still called naturalness. The mystery of naturalness may appear within human understanding, but the source of its mystery remains rooted in what people cannot know. Yet, from the standpoint of the Dao, there has never been such a thing as ignorance or murkiness.”

It also says: “Every scripture that has ever been expounded should be received and upheld by those who have the Dao. For its transmission, one must prepare gifts of gold, silk, and other valuables, and swear an oath before Heaven; only then may it be transmitted.”

Disciples, this is the principle taught in the Jade Pivot Scripture: its wonder seems to lie in the ability to understand and discern, yet its true wonder comes precisely from not clinging to distinctions and knowledge. Before the Great Dao, however, there is no such thing as ignorance or impurity. The scripture also says: “Whenever a teaching from the scriptures is transmitted to someone accomplished in cultivating the Dao, one should prepare gold and valuables, make an oath to Heaven, and then pass it on.”

Disciples, the Jade Pivot Scripture speaks of the principle of the Truly Mysterious. It is a supreme and inconceivable treasure of pure stillness and liberation. You know only how to recite the scripture each day, but may not understand its subtle meaning. When reciting and practicing it, if you grasp the scripture’s secret, you can bring sagely wisdom to completion and give rise to its light.

The principle of the Great Dao is profound and unfathomable. It cannot be heard with the ears or seen with the eyes. Since there is no sound to hear, one should forget the ears’ faculty of hearing; since there is no form or color to see, one should forget the eyes’ faculty of sight. When the ears and eyes no longer cling to what the senses encounter, hearing and seeing dissolve along with them.

The ears and eyes are the leading faculties among the Six Roots—the six capacities of perception and cognition: eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind. Clinging to the forms, colors, and thoughts one hears and sees is the source of the Six Roots’ activity. How, then, could this accord with the Dao? If you can quiet all six faculties and clear away the Six Consciousnesses—the acts of knowing and discriminating that arise from the Six Roots—you can listen with the mind without relying on the ears, and see with Shen (spirit) without relying on the eyes. Then you can hear without listening and see without looking. Reaching the state of hearing nothing and seeing nothing, you accord with the Dao.

The Classic of the Ancient Cavern of Red Writing says: “Forget what you see before you, and inner light will appear without end. Forget what you hear, and awareness will remain calm and deep. When both kinds of perception, sight and hearing, are laid aside, you can enter all manner of wondrous realms. The eyes cannot see me, and the ears cannot hear me. To leave behind all oppositions and distinctions is called the wondrous Dao.”

The Nanhua Classic says: “Breath ceases at the ears; thought ceases at the tally.” Here, “tally” refers to a token or seal used to verify a match.

Thus the Scripture of the Jade Pivot says: “Forgetting the body and the self is the key to entering the Great Dao; one must also enter it with a sincere heart. Here, ‘sincerity’ means observing the precepts. Hold to them in silence; here, ‘silence’ means using the precepts to discipline body and mind. To practice silence and appear as though you are inarticulate is to enter meditation and forget the perceptions of ears and eyes. To practice gentleness and appear clumsy is to conceal wisdom deep within.”

The scripture also says: “If you seek the Dao within your physical body by looking with your eyes and listening with your ears, in the end you will neither see nor hear it.”

The Diamond Sutra says: “Those who seek to see me through outward forms or seek me through sound follow a deviant path and cannot see the Tathagata.”

Those who wish to enter the Daoist path should receive the precepts, enter meditative stillness, and devote themselves to cultivating wisdom. In this way, the confusion in their hearts can turn to clear understanding, until they can discern the principles of things without relying on what they hear and see in daily life.

Those who cultivate the Dao must therefore understand “knowing when to stop”: keeping the precepts and stilling thoughts. They must understand “knowing caution”: carefully guarding themselves and devoting themselves wholeheartedly to their practice. And they must understand “knowing the subtle”: not clinging to cleverness and talent, but returning to simplicity. Stilling deluded thoughts depends on keeping the precepts; carefully guarding oneself depends on entering meditative stillness; discerning what is hidden and subtle depends on wisdom. When precepts are kept, stillness entered, and wisdom cultivated, body and mind become settled. Sagely wisdom grows pure and complete, and its light shines everywhere. Once this light has penetrated all things, the person and the Dao become one. This is called “true forgetting.”

“True forgetting” here does not mean sitting in meditation and making the mind completely blank. It means “true emptiness.” Within true emptiness there remains the “wondrous form of purple gold”—the subtle, real aspect spoken of in Daoism. This is the wondrous fruit attained through “emptiness that is not empty.” If one does not fall into inert emptiness, but reaches emptiness that is not empty, the subtle principles of the Dao will emerge naturally. In the end, one forgets until there is nothing left to forget; all that has been forgotten is precisely the Dao, true and wondrous.

Some teachings hold that people may be foolish or wise because their innate nature differs in clarity and turbidity. Though this is connected to differences in local conditions and inborn endowments, it also arises from the workings of creation: it is the result of nature’s cycles and the formation of fate, as though one’s destiny had been settled in advance. Yet the foolish remain foolish and the wise remain wise; Heaven and Earth do not deliberately turn fools into the wise or the wise into fools.

What matters is whether one can give rise to a clear and tranquil mind and make a vast vow: one must be willing to leave the world to cultivate the Dao and save others, but must first hear the Dao, practice, and save oneself. Those who cultivate themselves should take refuge in the Three Treasures (the Dao, scripture, and teacher revered in Daoism), uphold the precepts, practice meditative stillness, and cultivate wisdom so that inner radiance can shine forth. In this way, even the dull-witted can become wise, and a turbid nature can become clear. Without upholding the precepts and entering stillness, wisdom cannot fully unfold, and there is no radiance with which to see. Clarity may then become turbidity, and wisdom may turn to foolishness. The Diamond Sutra says, “The Dharma I speak of has no fixed, unchanging form.” This is precisely the point.

The wisdom and radiance spoken of here illuminate the deep and mysterious realms and shine throughout the entire Dharma Realm (the total domain in which all things exist). How could they lie beyond the scope of the Jade Pivot Precious Scripture? “Jade Pivot” refers to the essential key, the true pivot. To turn the Dharma mechanism described in the scripture, one must first turn one’s own true mechanism, while secretly cultivating blessings and wisdom. The only fear is that one may possess a treasury of radiant jewels yet be unable to open it or see it. How, then, could one discern the forms of ghosts and spirits, grasp the pivot of creation, take part in Heaven and Earth’s transformation and nurturing of all things, turn the courses of the sun and moon, gather the vast Dharma Realm into a single grain of millet, grasp the first signs of things before they appear, become a teacher who understands the wondrous Dao, and ascend to the realm of the Celestial Immortals?

The meaning is this: only by seeing the inner treasury of radiance can one hear the root of the highest Dao. Without cultivating the precepts and meditation, how could one attain the deep light of wisdom? Clinging to outward forms is not the true form; letting go of attachment to sound is true hearing. Through hearing, reflection, and practice, one enters the wondrous realm and can freely hear the Dao’s sound, like the tide of the sea.

Nineteen: The Wondrous Functions of Spiritual Powers

Everyone, the path of cultivation that turns toward the light of wisdom, as discussed above, is described in the Scripture of the Jade Pivot (Yushu Jing) as “bringing hearing and seeing to an end.” To be attached to neither hearing nor sight is to express the wondrous workings of this path fully; spiritual powers arise from it as well.

Everyone, the Scripture of the Hidden Talisman (Yinfu Jing) says, “The deaf can see, while the blind can hear.” The immortals of antiquity said, “Listen in stillness, yet hear no thunder; look with care, yet see no Mount Tai.” The Doctrine of the Mean says, “How vast is the De of the spirits! We look for them but cannot see them; we listen for them but cannot hear them.” The Scripture of the Southern Florescence (Nanhua Jing) says, “Neither look nor listen; guard the spirit and quiet the mind.” The Seal of the Unity of the Three (Cantong Qi) says, “The ears, eyes, and mouth are the Three Treasures. Close them so they do not open outward; the perfected person lies hidden in the depths, drifting while holding fast to the Way of the Center.” The scriptures offer so many accounts of these wondrous principles that they cannot all be recounted. The Great Bodhisattva Guanyin, from hearing and contemplating to cultivation, ultimately entered samadhi, the state of meditative absorption.

The ear faculty, the root of hearing, is an opening through which Jing and Qi can leak outward. The Jing spoken of here is not the Jing produced by the restless desires acquired after birth, but the true Qi contained within the primordial Taiyi. When the original essence manifests in response, this Jing is connected with samadhi.

The ears are a gateway through which Jing and Qi are easily dissipated outward. The “Jing” spoken of here is not the restless essence produced by acquired desires, but the essence transformed from the innate Taiyi, which contains the true, when the original Qi manifests. If one listens inwardly and gathers the sense of hearing, Jing and Qi will not scatter outward, and wisdom will arise.

The eyes are a gateway through which Shen and Qi are easily dissipated outward. The “Shen” spoken of here is not the mind and spirit generated by acquired thought, but innate numinous awareness and the original, inherent knowledge of what is good; it is also the original spirit contained in the primordial Qi that fills the Great Beginning, before Heaven and Earth were divided. If one turns one’s gaze inward and draws it back, the mind and spirit will not wander outward, and wisdom will become apparent.

By keeping the precepts and entering stillness, wisdom arises. When wisdom arises, Water and Fire join; when Water and Fire join, Kan and Li, symbols of Water and Fire, Yin and Yang, come together; when Kan and Li come together, Heaven and Earth become peaceful; when Heaven and Earth are at peace, Metal and Wood, two of the Five Phases, unite; when Metal and Wood unite, the hun and po souls gather; when the hun and po gather, Jing and Qi are transformed; when Jing and Qi are transformed, spiritual powers become manifest; when spiritual powers are manifest, light shines forth; when light shines forth, merit and virtue are perfected; when merit and virtue are perfected, the Dharma Body, the pure nature realized by a practitioner, is accomplished; when the Dharma Body is accomplished, the Dao-body is revealed; when the Dao-body is revealed, wondrous functions are put into practice; when these wondrous functions are put into practice, living beings are liberated; when living beings are liberated, the power of the vow is fulfilled; when the vow is fulfilled, the great work of cultivation is complete; and when the great work is complete, one attains the corresponding fruition.

This is the sole ultimate method; the other two are not true methods. From beginning to end, everything depends on a single word: sincerity.

The Doctrine of the Mean says, “Without sincerity, nothing truly exists.” The “things” spoken of here are real presences within the hazy and indistinct, and subtle Qi within the deep and obscure. The method of cultivation, too, depends on sincerity; from beginning to end, its essential point lies in this single word: sincerity.

The Doctrine of the Mean says, “Without sincerity within, there are no real things.” “Things” here refers to the substance of the Dao: elusive and indistinct, yet truly present; profound and hidden, yet containing the finest essence. This fine essence is real and not illusory, and within it lies trustworthy evidence. “Trustworthiness” means “sincerity.” The “things” that the Book of Changes describes as arising when “essence and Qi coalesce,” the “things” of “investigating things” in the Great Learning, and the “essence” in the Book of Documents’ phrase “pure and single-minded” all point to the same principle. The “center” is also this principle, as in the saying, “Hold fast to the true center.”

The Lotus Sutra says, “There is a precious treasure hidden within the body.” The sages used this teaching to cleanse the mind, bring it to stillness, and store it away in the depths of the hidden and subtle. Everything described above refers to this treasure. First the mind must withdraw and settle into stillness; only then can the treasure be seen. An ancient song says, “If the mind can be left with nothing in it, it is as though Fuxi, the legendary sage ruler of antiquity, were alive before our eyes.” So why cling to miraculous powers and subtle wonders? Why pursue the radiance of wisdom?

Miraculous powers and subtle wonders are the marvelous means by which realized people—those who uphold the precepts and understand the Great Dao—appear and teach the Way, transforming living beings and gathering scattered thoughts back to their true nature. Through the radiance of great wisdom, they bestow wisdom upon living beings and reach out to rescue them, as though extending a golden arm, lifting them from suffering into purity and stillness. Such power can prolong the lives of those whose years are short and turn calamity and pain into peace and joy; bring stability and tranquility to lands, and preserve and extend the lives of their inhabitants; make living beings pure and upright, dispel demons and evil influences, drive out violence and rebellion, and destroy demonic forces; and inspire compassion in living beings so that they no longer take life or harm other beings.

It can also help living beings pass safely through tribulations, end grudges, and untie entanglements; dispel darkness and reveal the light; heal every illness and cure old ailments; turn ignorance into understanding, guide people toward the right path and away from the wrong; lessen desire, calm the spirit, rein in sensual cravings, and return people to their original nature; free them to transcend the ordinary and enter the realm of the sages; help them accumulate blessings, avert calamities, bring down good fortune, and erase sin; and enable them to leave worldly life, cultivate the Dao, realize the true, and escape suffering.

Those capable of cultivating the highest Way can ascend to heaven, guide all living beings, roam in spirit through the eight directions, and transcend the celestial palaces.

May all ordinary beings attain the body of the Dharma King—a state of body and mind that embodies the true Dharma and freely guides others to liberation. Its workings are unfathomably deep; this is called “supernatural powers.” To keep its mysteries from being revealed lightly is called “wondrous functioning.”

The supernatural powers cultivated through precepts, concentration, and wisdom—the Daoist practices of keeping the precepts, entering stillness, and developing insight—do not mean deliberately displaying extraordinary abilities. Rather, they are the six powers transformed from the six faculties of consciousness: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and thought. They reach throughout Heaven and Earth, spirits and ghosts, people, and all things; hence they are called supernatural powers. Their wondrous functioning is an ineffable activity that appears within “nonbeing”: through a single opening, myriad transformations can emerge. Subduing and transforming heavenly demons, earthly fiends, ghosts, wicked people, and monsters is all called wondrous functioning.

Cultivation through the gateway of precepts and concentration consists in entering stillness. From concentration arises the light of wisdom: an auspicious sign that the primordial Qi—the Daoist source of all Qi—has become complete, clear, and bright. It reaches upward to the heavenly palaces, where, above the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), one pays homage to the ancestral Qi; it reaches downward to the underworld, where, in the depths of the Nine Springs, guilty souls are pardoned. When the true Dharma is taught, the heavenly gods are moved to obey; the Five Emperors attend court, and the assembled gods stand guard in solemn ranks. All are eager to hear the true Dharma and refine the spirit until it returns to emptiness. Once they have been liberated, the practitioner continues, with a compassionate heart, to relieve suffering in the netherworld. Thus Jingluo offers praise, Dizang shines forth, ghost officials carry out their orders, and the departments of the underworld are transformed. Guilty souls are pardoned and raised to new life; they hear the true Dharma, leave the registers of the dead, and are reborn together in the Land of Ultimate Bliss.

The practitioner liberates both self and others, making a great vow: may everyone hear the highest Dao; may the true Dharma serve like medicine to save all beings, so that all living beings and every ensouled thing may be liberated. Even earth, wood, tiles, and stones can respond to it; there is nothing among beings that cannot become clear and illumined.

When supernatural powers are exercised, no trace is left, as though Heaven, Earth, and all things were within oneself. Wondrous functioning appears naturally, as though rivers, mountains, and stars all belonged to the Dharma. All heavenly demons submit in reverence, and earthly fiends become gentle and kind. Fierce ghosts are transformed and rise to a higher state, no longer receiving offerings of blood and food. Asuras and outsiders, too, uphold the true Dharma and return to the right path. Warfare ceases forever, wrongs are righted, and enmity dissolves.

Through the transforming power of De, rather than forceful suppression, wicked people can become good. Through the call of sincerity, rather than oppression by magic arts, those who follow crooked paths can become upright. The pivot of the Dipper is reversed and Yin-Yang set in motion, beyond the ability of gods and ghosts to discern; the mechanism of transformation is turned backward, lifting beings beyond the world, beyond the notice of Heaven and Earth. The practitioner manifests everywhere the De of the divine and achieves a steadfast Dharma body, yet there is no form that can be seen. The highest and most wondrous teachings are proclaimed far and wide, yet there is no sound that can be heard.

Emptiness is my Dharma realm—the realm of the Dharma as realized by the practitioner—and I am the Dharma body of emptiness. Vast and undifferentiated, I unite with Heaven as one; upright and majestic, I share one mind with the immortals and Buddhas. Master Cheng said, “When it expands, it fills Heaven and Earth in all directions; when it contracts, it withdraws and conceals itself in the depths.” This describes precisely that state.

This is what is meant by being the parent of all beings and the master of the Daoist school: the supernatural powers of stillness and liberation, and the wondrous functioning of Wuwei (non-action) and naturalness.

Everyone, if you do not cling to outward appearances, your wisdom can reach far and wide; if you follow your natural nature, its wondrous workings have no limit. These truths are practiced in the routines of daily life, without slackening, and upheld even in haste and urgency. In the end, they come down to just two words: Dao and De. Why abandon the precepts to study talismanic arts, or cast aside a precious jade tablet and become enamored of a stone that merely resembles jade? Why willingly remain without wisdom instead of learning the highest Way?

Alas! Everyone who enters the Daoist gate should pursue the highest Daoist teachings. Each person contains a subtle, wondrous inner aperture and possesses an innate radiance. Yet because obstacles are so numerous, people regard the precepts as empty rules. Even when they observe the precepts, they often do so only intermittently, their minds wavering and unsettled…

Alas! Those who have entered the Dao should seek the most profound methods of cultivation. Everyone contains subtle spiritual nature and possesses inner luminosity; yet because there are so many obstacles, people regard the precepts as empty formalities. Even when they make an effort to observe them, they often lapse. Their minds and spirits wander restlessly, and their power of concentration naturally fails to deepen.

To deepen concentration, one must keep the precepts and make vows with earnestness. In cultivation, take as your guiding principle neither striving deliberately nor letting things slip from awareness. Persist at every moment, day and night, for years without slackening. When concentration is deep and the precepts are firmly established, practitioners will naturally reach the wondrous realm of the spirit. Only after reaching it can they truly bring forth wondrous efficacy. To wield spiritual powers and attain wondrous efficacy, you must continue to advance with sincere hearts.

If you remain deluded and cling single-mindedly to outward forms in your pursuit, you will fall into deviant realms and take the wrong path. Most heterodox ways remain bound to the body. Clinging either to emptiness or to form is not proper cultivation. Cling neither to emptiness nor to form, and the state of concentration will no longer be confined by appearances; when a response arises, it will reach through freely. In practice, spiritual clarity will remain unobstructed, and wondrous efficacy will appear of itself. This is precisely how many cultivators have strayed from the centered and upright work of cultivation.

I am not speaking at length for nothing. Alas, let me simply reveal this celestial secret plainly: when spiritual powers manifest and wondrous efficacy becomes clear, one can become a Great Dharma King spanning Heaven and Earth—a person who grasps the Great Dao and spreads its power. This does not depart from the eternally constant Dao of abiding stillness. Even those once influenced by deviant teachings can turn their hearts toward the true Dao, and evil can become good. Those who once defied their elders can become filial and fraternal; the stubborn and cruel can become kind.

With wisdom like a bright mirror, a spiritual nature as keen as a spirit’s, and a heart-mind shining with light, one can become a Great Dharma King spanning Heaven and Earth. This does not depart from the eternally constant Dao of abiding stillness. Even those once influenced by deviant teachings can turn their hearts toward the true Dao, and evil can become good. Those who once defied their elders can become filial and fraternal; the stubborn and cruel can become kind. Wisdom is like a bright mirror, and spiritual insight is keen as a spirit’s; the heart-mind shines with light. The six supernatural powers, spoken of in Buddhist and Daoist texts as six kinds of extraordinary perception and ability, work together without leaving a trace. In the practitioner’s eyes, Heaven and Earth, mountains and rivers are all as precious and luminous as gold.

Do not grow lax or treat the observance of precepts lightly. Keeping the precepts is the very ladder that leads to the Way of Heaven, step by step. The spirit’s mysteries are beyond measure, and its wondrous principles beyond reckoning, yet they always depend on precepts, concentration, and genuine, steadfast cultivation. Within the Gate of Suchness, the gate that leads to one’s true nature, lies a passage reaching Heaven. In the Fasting Chamber of Nonduality, where one realizes that all things are not two, the breath seems to carry a holy fragrance. As long as you cultivate sincerely and do not give up on yourselves, the Great Way of the immortals, cultivated since ancient times, will be your field of practice.

Twenty: Awakening to Life and Death

Everyone, the sages, immortals, and Buddhas of ages past all sought to understand life’s great cause and conditions. They once spent nine years facing a wall in cultivation, driven by an urgent desire to find a way to escape birth and death, transcend the mundane world, and subdue the mind.

Have you never heard that a human life is like a spark struck from stone or a flash of lightning, like fallen blossoms carried away by flowing water? Once impermanence arrives, life cannot be held even for a moment. Yet karmic offenses and blessings follow us, bringing us through cycles of rebirth to receive their consequences. Before a sentence is finished, the breath in the throat may already have stopped; before a thought is fully spoken, the tongue may stiffen and draw back, unable to make a sound. When left naked and without support, where can one find shelter? Lost in darkness and confusion, how can one settle one’s nature and life?

Those who have amassed great blessings will be born again among humans; those who have committed evil deeds will fall into Fengdu, the legendary underworld. When their blessings are spent, they return once more to the cycle of rebirth; when their karmic retribution is exhausted, they may be reborn as animals. Grudges entangled across countless eons are difficult to escape, and offenses accumulated over a thousand lifetimes are difficult to erase. From one generation to the next, beings remain deluded and unawakened, living in a drunken dream. As grudges are avenged in turn, they may ultimately be reborn as horned, hairy beasts. These matters are painful and sorrowful to recount, and they inspire both pity and fear.

If you cannot hold firmly to your resolve and preserve your innate goodness, then you must summon the determination to overturn heaven and earth: fathom what lies beyond death, set aside selfish thoughts, and see clearly the many follies and delusions of this life. When a person of resolute will meets such a challenge, he rises in fierce determination, sword in hand—the treasured sword that slays demons, a symbol of cutting away evil thoughts within the heart. A person of true commitment, for his part, brings forth the mighty vital force of righteousness and cuts through evil thoughts with the decisiveness of a sharp blade.

You must see clearly where your life truly came from before your parents gave birth to you, and how it took shape; you must also know where you will abide after death. Understand the Three Bodies, the different levels of embodiment in Buddhist and Daoist cultivation, and the three times: past, future, and present. Investigate the three ages so thoroughly that the past seems as clear as yesterday, and the future as plain as this morning. Then dispel the jumble of thoughts, leaving only a point of numinous, true light; sweep away every attachment, preserving only a point of innate wisdom.

Enter the Mysterious Pass, the gateway through which one realizes the subtle Dao, and when one opening is penetrated, all openings become clear. See the true source, the fundamental Great Dao, and understand past, present, and future, while transcending the Three Realms of desire, form, and formlessness. With liberation comes freedom from the constraints of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water); with a mind empty, lucid, and still, the Four Great Elements that constitute the body—earth, water, fire, and wind—return to emptiness and stillness. Enter the Gate of the Myriad Wonders and ascend to the realm of the Three Treasures; come and go freely, transforming without limit.

Turn the celestial mechanism, the mystery of heaven and earth’s movements, with the lightest touch, and even ghosts and spirits cannot fathom its subtlety. Solemnly reverse the handle of the Dipper, symbolizing mastery of the workings of the Dao of Heaven, and Yin-Yang cannot command its power. Roam freely amid the vast, all-pervading Brahma Qi, the primordial energy of before Heaven, and realize the realm of pure emptiness and boundless stillness. Leave the tribulations of the mundane world forever and transcend all bonds. The great work of cultivating the Dao of Complete Perfection is accomplished at this point, but this path must be traveled one level at a time; it cannot be reached suddenly without practice. The Dharma Body of wondrous existence, the true body that transcends physical form yet manifests its subtle functions, must be gradually understood through wisdom. Every layer of meticulous effort must be carried out in earnest. How could fulfillment come naturally without first attaining understanding?

Disciples, the Great Dao is transmitted by sages, but cultivation depends on oneself. Virtue must be accumulated little by little, while Heaven observes one’s good and evil, gains and losses.

Disciples, the principles of the Dao must be transmitted by sages, but cultivation depends on you. Virtue is accumulated little by little, while Heaven observes good and evil. Have you not heard that Heaven differentiates from the One to bring forth the myriad transformations, while people establish the ethical principles for living and conducting themselves through their own hearts? All of you must strive, cultivate without delay, and attend to this at once. Those who have not fully awakened still retain favorable conditions for cultivating the Dao. Those who awaken completely can ultimately return to the azure heavens—the pure, transcendent realm spoken of in Daoism. Those who have not fully awakened will not, for that reason, fall into hell.

Disciples, even if you knock on a door with a gold brick and it does not open, the brick remains in your hand. In cultivating the Dao and keeping the precepts, even if you have not yet realized the Dao, your observance of the precepts remains with you. You will never sink into the underworld because of it; in the end, you will still be reborn among the living. The conditions accumulated in the past do not disappear, and the fruits of cultivation will eventually come to maturity. Even a little understanding gives you something fundamental to rely on.

Disciples, if you wish to understand birth and death completely, do not seek outside yourself. Only after seeing birth and death clearly will you know the True Origin—the inner primordial Qi and original true nature. Though I have said so much, none of it amounts to a ready-made method. If you can understand your own heart and act accordingly, you will find the principle for yourself. Investigate life through death, and understand death through life. The pivotal transformation between life and death is a path you must walk and a change you must bring about yourself. It rests entirely with you; no one else can do it in your place.

Seek stillness amid movement, and observe movement within stillness. The first signs of movement and stillness can be discerned only by the innate knowing of your own heart. Question your own heart; do not seek answers only from your teacher. Remember these words, and you will not go astray. If you do not follow what I have said, you will ultimately fall into error. This lamp of mine, which lights the dark road, can guide many who have lost their way. This raft of mine, which helps people cross the sea of suffering, can carry countless wanderers across, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges. Disciples, do not give way to doubt. Recognize the true principle, and set out on the path of cultivation without delay.

Thus the entire garden fell silent. Suddenly, someone was heard chanting:

“While alive, where exactly is your home? And after death, where will you return? While you are still cultivating, you should realize the Dharma Body (the true body that transcends the flesh and embodies the Great Dao) as early as you can. Do not let time slip away with empty hands. You must repeatedly contemplate the great matter of life and death—the causes and conditions that concern life at its root—and never take it lightly. Before you die, first contemplate yourself as already dead. The vitality of life is to be found precisely through contemplating death.

“It is neither in the water nor in the mountains. Why search to the northwest or southeast? Look closely: it is not outside the body, but within the narrow confines of the heart. Cultivate precepts, concentration, and wisdom (keeping the precepts, calming body and mind, and developing wisdom), and enter the Mysterious Pass (the crucial gateway of inner cultivation). Your effort must not lapse and resume by fits and starts. Focus on understanding the principle of life and death, and even barriers like walls of iron and bronze will not be hard to break through.

“This path is truly bitter and difficult, like a boat moving across a shallow shoal. Then suddenly the river tide rises, and a favorable wind comes just in time; in an instant, the boat flies across the Nine Dragon Bay. Once you recognize the truth, travel through the night. Search everywhere, and you will not find even a walking stick to lean on. Then, empty and alone, you cultivate without thirst or hunger, enduring as long as Heaven and Earth.”

The twenty-first merit was brought to completion.

Disciples, the void is vast, and the gate of precepts and concentration is the stairway to the Way of Heaven. The sea of suffering stretches without end, and the light of wisdom is the boat that carries you across. If you do not stride forward with resolve, you will never reach the journey’s end, ninety thousand li away. If you do not straighten your back and persevere in cultivation, you may pass through a thousand kalpas without hearing the true Dharma. If your cultivation is careless and your resolve uncertain, how can your practice be perfected and your Virtue made complete?

Disciples, let no thought in your heart go unexamined, and the original Qi within your body will naturally grow abundant and harmonious. Only when your Virtue is sufficient to move ghosts and spirits can you escape the consequences of the cycle of rebirth. Only when the Great Dao runs through Heaven and Earth can you find your way out of life and death. Climb to the far shore of the Dao, and with a turn you will be home; enter deeply into the elusive and still realm of Xiyi (that which is subtle, silent, and beyond perception), and in an instant you can return to your original true nature.

Everyone! Who can truly escape death? Who can attain long life? To be deathless does not mean that the mortal body never perishes; long life does not depend on whether one’s form endures. Where is Peng Zu now? Can Yan Hui still exist after countless kalpas? What is truly deathless is my Dharma Body, the spiritual essence that transcends the physical body. What truly endures is my original Qi, the fundamental vital energy that constitutes life and connects with the Dao.

The Tathagata (the Buddha) too entered into stillness, reaching the realm of Nirvana. Lao Dan (Laozi) too had his day of ascension, rising to the Great Red Heaven, a heavenly realm in Daoism. When the Dao endures, it is as though a person endures; when the Dharma is transmitted, it is as though one’s own self remains. To be remembered after death is what it means to live long: it is a nameless name that cannot be destroyed, even through millions of kalpas. To live without clinging to possession is what it means to have form: it is the formless form that cannot be harmed through hundreds or thousands of generations.

Among the sages as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, who has not entered and emerged through this Mysterious Pass, the gateway to the Great Dao? Among the countless immortals and Buddhas, who has not traveled along this Great Dao? The road to Heaven lies plain before us, yet the deluded doubt and refuse to believe. The Buddha’s realm is pure and peaceful, yet the obstacles in ordinary people’s hearts are hard to remove. This is only because their blessings are meager and their karmic debts heavy: though they have eyes, they see no more than the blind. Many are burdened by deep karmic grievances; though alive, they are as good as dead, walking corpses who have little over animals beyond the power of speech. By day they are drowsy, by night they sleep; compared with plants and trees, they lack even the vitality to stand upright and spread their branches and leaves. When their allotted years come to an end, the ghost officials arrive to seize them. Even if they call themselves Quanzhen Daoist priests, their record of offenses will be examined down to the last word, and in the end they will still be judged people without De.

Disciples, everyone dies. The goal is to die in peace and fulfillment: with body and mind purified, free of attachments, and at liberty to come and go. Everyone’s physical form eventually disperses as well. The key is for that dispersal to be wondrous: clear and penetrating, carefree and at ease, transforming with perfect harmony in ways beyond understanding.

Before setting out, bid farewell to everyone, one by one. When the hour arrives, let everything go, turn, and depart. Unclothed and unburdened, the figure reveals the pure form of an infant; a vast, upright Qi and countless auspicious rays stream forth from the crown of the head. The perfectly complete and integrated form rises into the heavens, entering a realm too subtle to fathom. In the sky, colored clouds swirl and white cranes soar, revealing scene after scene of the Immortal realms. At last, the original Shen—the fundamental spiritual nature of the person—returns to the realm of emptiness and clarity. Amid the auspicious radiance, the true bones remain concealed in a grotto dwelling.

Here the great man’s life’s work is complete: he leaves behind an Immortal’s name among humankind and Daoist teachings to circulate in the world, so that people a thousand or even ten thousand years later will still know such a person once lived. This is what is meant by “dying without perishing is called longevity.” If his Daoist methods continue to be transmitted and practiced even after countless eons, then his merit and blessings are complete and without flaw.

Disciples, the cultivation of nature and life depends entirely on you; no one else can complete it in your place. If you do not practice, someone else may not be able to practice for you. Your thoughts arise and pass away without cease, and you may not be able to keep hold of them. You may not be able to clear away delusions and selfish desires; you may not be able to let go of deep attachments to family affection, desire, and love. You may not come to know the Dharma Body—the true nature that transcends physical form and is without shape or appearance. You may not be able to observe the precepts and rules of practice, or eliminate afflictions and ignorance. The habits accumulated through worldly toil may not fade; various obstacles may not be removed. You may not be able to practice in accordance with the wondrous methods of the true mantras, or believe in the causes and effects of sin and merit. You may not be able to forget ordinary thoughts and worldly affairs, or empty your mind of attachment to outward forms when making vows. You may not be able to distinguish heterodox paths from the proper way, or see through the illusory appearances created by deliberate action. You may not know how to respond properly to the many things you encounter, or free yourself from attachment amid the many states of experience. You may not find realized adepts or enlightened teachers, or enter the great Dao of the void. You may not attain liberation in this life, or bring the original vow you made to complete fulfillment.

Disciples, why is this so? It is because you, disciples who have received the precepts, are arrogant and conceited, making it difficult for instruction to take effect. Even kind words of counsel may not reach you. If you harbor doubts and refuse to believe, it is difficult to reflect and correct your faults. Those burdened by grave evil karma and offenses may not attain liberation in this life, and their original vows may not reach completion.

Disciples, why is this so? It is simply because you are deeply guarded and arrogant, and so cannot be taught. You do not heed kind words and gentle counsel. Doubting in your hearts and unwilling to believe, you cannot be brought to awakening. Your karmic offenses are so grave that you cannot be rescued from them. Your anger and slander cannot be restrained by admonition; even praise and flattery cannot change your attitude. Your character is harsh and quick to anger, and you refuse to listen to counsel. You harbor schemes and calculate at every turn, yet refuse to let them go. Sincere warnings and earnest entreaties cannot reach your hearts. Your dullness, confusion, foolishness, and delusions cannot be dispelled. Though you have eyes, you cannot see clearly, and no one can point the way for you. Your conduct is reckless and improper, and you cannot be brought to restraint.

When illness and suffering befall you, you cannot be healed. When fortune turns against you and calamity arrives, you cannot be absolved. When your allotted fate and tribulations come due, no one can spare you; when the retribution of rebirth catches up with you, no one can let you pass. You cannot be exempted from the laws of the realm or the punishments of the underworld; no one can care for or save you from the hellish punishments of knife mountains and sword trees. The Boat of Compassion, which carries people away from suffering, and the Raft of Wisdom, which ferries them to liberation, cannot carry you across. The wondrous treasure of the Golden Elixir, a precious method of Daoist cultivation or a symbol of Neidan, cannot be entrusted to you. Even with access to Heaven’s secrets, no one can turn your fate around; even with divine powers, no one can deliver you from suffering.

Disciples, you should set your intentions sincerely, practice diligently, and observe the precepts with care, never violating them. Seek undivided focus in meditation, with a sincere and unwavering mind; this is what it truly means to turn back toward the Dao. When you turn back toward the Dao, repentance can wash away your faults; by taking refuge in and following the Great Dao, you can sever entanglements and cares. The wondrous gateways of Heaven and the realm of pure emptiness can then naturally come within reach; the darkness of the underworld will also disperse in the light. You can rise beyond great calamities and escape the cycle of rebirth; even in the face of life and death’s impermanence, you can remain steadfast and self-possessed. When every thought accords with the boundless Great Dao, you can understand and realize the unsurpassed Dharma body, peacefully enjoy immeasurable blessings, and save living beings one by one. If you cultivate your vast vows deeply and diligently, they will naturally be fulfilled; your life, too, may be prolonged until it matches the enduring span of Heaven and Earth.

When you understand your original mind, its obscurations will dissolve. With sincerity, even something hard as metal or stone can be pierced. With an open mind, you will not be stained by the slightest thing. With perseverance, no number of demonic obstacles can rob you of your resolve. If you keep a good heart, grievances and ill intentions will naturally be dispelled. With a true heart, demonic forces cannot disturb you. When your mind is clear, you can reach the realm of sages and understand the principles of things. When you awaken to your original mind, you can realize the path of immortals and Buddhas and attain complete enlightenment. With an open mind, you can see subtle principles and understand them deeply. When you make your mind clear and pure, you can discern subtle forms and awaken wisdom. When you observe your original mind, you can penetrate true emptiness and silently accord with the Dao. When you settle your mind, you can understand life and death and be free of transgressions.

With a just heart, you can face ghosts and spirits without being deceived or misled. When you set your mind aright, demons and malign forces can be subdued, and your inner being will naturally shine with light. With sincerity, evil spirits will submit in fear, and your wisdom will grow. When you delight in giving, you can draw near to the gods of Heaven and strengthen your vast vows. With compassion, even the foolish and stubborn can be transformed, and your kindness can extend to everyone. When you establish authority, violent and wicked acts can be restrained, and fear will leave your heart. With forbearance, you will not readily abandon the myriad things, and your heart will naturally become broad. When you make your inner being empty and clear, you will not cling to forms and will enter a state of awakened awareness. When you let go of attachments, you will no longer distinguish among the forms of the myriad things, and the division between self and others will disappear. With a compassionate and earnest heart, you can understand everyone and resolve to deliver living beings.

When the mind clings to nothing, it is not held fast by external circumstances, and your actions can naturally remain flexible and well suited to the moment. When your thoughts are open and far-reaching, the Three Realms (the Realm of Desire, the Realm of Form, and the Realm of Formlessness) cannot bind you, and your inner being will be free of hindrances. With the resolve to help living beings, you can cross every kind of calamity. When your heart is pure, you can abide in a vast realm and attain fulfillment.

Disciples, I have now finished teaching this Dharma, and our ritual hall’s work is complete. Yet I think of you: when father and son go up the mountain together to cultivate, the father cannot directly pass his cultivation practice on to his son, and the son cannot cultivate on his father’s behalf. Those who cultivate the same Way must each experience for themselves the hardships and rewards of practice. Whether you advance or fall back is something you must work out through your own efforts.

So when I teach the Dharma, I offer no fixed method. I simply diagnose the illness and prescribe what suits it. Once the illness is cured and the symptoms are gone, there is no need to keep using the prescription. To cross a river, you take a boat; once you reach the far shore, there is no need to keep thinking about the boat. You use a needle to guide the thread and sew a garment, but there is no need to remain attached to the needle and thread. Do not make needless additions that only complicate matters.

Each of you should simply strive to move forward and observe the precepts with steady care and discipline. As your cultivation deepens, you should keep the precepts without clinging to the thought of “keeping the precepts,” and learn to restrain yourself even beyond what they require. As your practice accumulates, when the time is ripe and your skill has matured, the ancestral masters will naturally raise you up and guide you, leading you to realize the true Dao.

Do not be without your own judgment, relying on your master and fellow cultivators, clinging to names and outward appearances, and blindly following in others’ footsteps year after year. Be firm in your resolve, free of doubt, and persevere with single-minded purpose. When the time is ripe for your cultivation, have you not heard that “Heaven does not let down those who strive with all their heart”? The Great Dao is silent and unmoving; when a person responds to it with sincerity, they can become attuned to it.

Disciples, your willingness to make a resolute and courageous vow, to press ahead without turning back, shows that your aspirations are lofty and that you are promising candidates for cultivation in the Daoist tradition. Patriarch Qiu (Qiu Chuji, the founding patriarch of the Quanzhen school of Daoism) left a “silent verse,” a verse not expressed in words, which he rarely showed to others. Now I will recite it for you. Listen carefully and take it to heart.

The verse says: Life and death are subject to constant change, and awakening depends on oneself. After death, even those closest to you cannot bear the burden in your place. Do not place your hopes in others. Even becoming an immortal depends on your own cultivation and your own liberation. The mind can remain still only when it is not drawn along by the Six Dusts—external realms such as form, sound, fragrance, taste, touch, and mental objects—or by the Six Consciousnesses, the activities of knowing through the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind, and when it clings to no particular method. Whether discussing permanence and impermanence, or permanence and emptiness, one must understand the conditions involved. Knowing the causes and conditions prevents one from losing one’s way amid their complexity. In cultivation, investigate and realize that one’s own nature is empty. After reaching the fruit of realization and awakening to emptiness, what remains to cling to as the subject that sees or abides?

Once you understand the key to life and death, it is as though your name has been struck from the register of rebirth. Those who seek a method of cultivation in accordance with the precepts will naturally be known to the celestial spirits in secret. The Longmen Mind Method, the cultivation method of the Longmen school, has no fixed rules to grasp. To speak earnestly and plainly of “emptiness”—what is there to cling to as the subject that sees or abides? Once you understand the key to life and death, it is as though your name has been struck from the register of rebirth. Those who seek a method of cultivation in accordance with the precepts will naturally be known to the celestial spirits in secret. The Longmen Mind Method has no fixed rules; these earnest, direct words are meant simply to make the principles clear.

Do not cling to a method; you must also sweep away attachment itself to see the verse’s true meaning. Carefully consider what I say about the Dharma Body, the reality that transcends physical form and embodies truth: emptiness is like a treasure house whose riches are inexhaustible. When a thought arises, the mind’s workings multiply without end. The Dao is stored within oneself, able to extend blessings and longevity. When mind and method merge, the method is the mind. With no distinction between mind and method, one can remain in unimpeded understanding for a long time.

At the end of The Scripture of the Green Garden Altar

Twenty-Two: Investigating and Realizing the Mysterious Mechanism

Disciples, this lucid, undimmed original nature is my Primordial-Life True Person, my inner true life. How could it be easy to see?

From ancient times to the present, sages, immortals and Buddhas, patriarchs, and many who attained the Dao have pursued a range of practices. Some faced a wall for nine years; some sat in meditation in quiet rooms for six; others endured long periods of ascetic discipline, diligently investigating the Way. They traveled across famed mountains and blessed lands, seeking teachers and friends, pursuing the Dao and listening to scriptures. For years they practiced austerities, accumulated merit, and gave generously. All these practices aimed to investigate the great matter of one’s own life and death, nature and destiny: people do not know where they came from or where they will go after death. Drifting and sinking, they cannot escape the cycle of rebirth. So they made vows, built up merit, and maintained their practice.

Some believe that cutting off stray thoughts and forgetting emotion is the way to transcend the world. They sit in meditation for three or five years, wearing out many meditation cushions, but how many truly manage to eliminate thought and forget emotion, even for a moment? The saying “two fives return to make ten” does not necessarily mean they can achieve this. Others take “cooking lead and refining mercury”—a metaphor for Neidan practice—as the way to transcend the world. They practice at set times morning and evening, using methods such as “withdrawing the tally and advancing the fire” to refine and nourish themselves. But how many truly attain the “seven reversals of the Jade Liquor and nine returns of the Golden Liquor,” gaining complete control over themselves and subduing the “thief” in their hearts?

Some visualize and contemplate deities, silently paying homage for three days to the Heavenly Emperor; some perform refining and deliverance rites to rescue the departed souls of the Nine Earths. Some summon spirits and generals, wear Fulu (talismans and registers), and call themselves perfected beings. Some guide their breath and open the body’s passages, calling this the wondrous Dao. Some recite scriptures and bow in worship; some prepare elixirs to treat illness and heal injuries. Some refine and ingest elixirs in hope of ascending to immortality. Some imitate the transformations of Yin-Yang and practice gathering and refining. Some use breath to circulate Qi within a vessel, directing their intention to refine “true lead” in hopes of extending life. Some regulate the firing times in the furnace, refining medicines while accumulating merit through generous giving. Others, though physically frail, still cherish the way of the Golden Elixir and wait for a person blessed with good fortune to transmit it. Those with shallow karmic affinity take risks by practicing difficult methods, as though letting go at the edge of a cliff in one desperate gamble.

If these practices cause people to lose sight of their own original nature, they are merely delusive phantoms of cultivation. All belong to heterodox paths.

Everyone, to cut off distracting thoughts and forget emotions, you must first investigate and understand where thoughts arise and where emotions come from. Only when you can grasp them, keep them firmly in check, recognize them clearly, and point to where they truly reside can you begin to cut off thoughts and forget emotions.

But what, exactly, are you using right now to grasp, control, recognize, and locate them, and to begin cutting off thoughts and forgetting emotions? Even if you strain to do so and sit until your cushion wears through, thoughts remain thoughts and emotions remain emotions. Everyone, using thought to cut off thought is like adding another head on top of your own; using emotion to forget emotion is like catching a thief and then letting him go.

It would be better to forget even the method for “forgetting emotion,” and to cut off even the method for “cutting off thought.” Set down both ways of applying the mind and enter the Gate of the Myriad Mysteries—the path to realizing what is profound and subtle. This is the superior teaching.

Everyone, I use a certain method to cut off thoughts, yet fail to see that the method itself is a thought. I use a certain method to forget emotions, yet fail to see that the method itself is an emotional thought. Rather than deliberately cutting off thoughts, let them cease of their own accord; rather than deliberately forgetting emotions, let them naturally fade. This is called seeking within oneself rather than seeking from others.

Everyone, when people speak of “cooking lead and refining mercury,” “adding and reducing to regulate the fire,” or “matching the hexagram lines,” they mistake borrowed names for actual functions and metaphors for practical methods of cultivation if they split apart the principle of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), which is whole and undivided. Some speak carelessly about the three fields (the upper, middle, and lower Dantian), make blind guesses about Jing and Qi, and treat the seven emotions and nine apertures as mechanisms for cultivation. They also mistake terms such as “seven words,” “nine words,” “return,” and “restore” for seven or nine times, rounds, stages, years, or revolutions. Some draw diagrams, others describe visions. They straighten their backs and fixate on places such as the niwan (the region of the head), weilü (the base of the spine), Dantian, the Crimson Chamber, the Yellow Court, and the Flower Pond, as well as methods such as raising Water and lowering Fire, nurturing with warmth, bathing, and sealing. Today they say Kan and Li have joined (Yin-Yang has been harmonized); tomorrow, they say the Earth-Heaven Peace hexagram has formed (Heaven and Earth have joined); the day after, they claim that the hun and po have united. This year they think they have formed an embryo; years later, they still call it the same embryo. As nine years draw to a close, they remain ignorant of the great Dao of life and death, having accumulated karmic offenses in vain.

Such people do not know where they have gone wrong. They shake their heads, count on their fingers, and tell others foolishly, “That day I formed the sacred embryo. I regulated the fire correctly, and I bathed at the proper time. Why, after ten months of nurturing, has no infant been born? Could it be that you and I have little good fortune and deep karmic offenses, and that the spirits refuse to let me succeed?” They clutch their bellies, shamelessly, eyes wide, pretending to weep.

Understand that people of such shallow nature and foolish understanding do not know their own mind and nature. Confused and muddled, they sink into karmic obstruction; how could they understand the Dao? Still, this person has a desire to advance along the Dao. They are simply clouded and deluded, not yet awakened to the true essentials of cultivation.

The Jing and Qi within you are originally the innate primordial Qi and primordial Jing: precious foundations that neither increase nor diminish. Deliberately trying to manipulate them makes no sense. Doing so will not make them increase, and leaving them alone will not make them diminish. Some people are sincerely devoted to the Dao, yet their minds and spirits remain clouded. They have not awakened to how to truly set out on the path of cultivation.

This original nature, clear and perceptive, never darkened or lost, is the Original Spirit. Why, then, if it is called the Original Spirit, is it also described as an “infant”? Because the karmic burdens accumulated over many past lives have not yet been cleared away, the obstacles to cultivation remain, the heart has not yet been purified, and the root of one’s nature is still unclear and unresponsive. If you do not promptly repent your faults, change your habitual tendencies, seek out teachers, and understand the Great Dao, but instead turn your sincere heart toward useless pursuits and spend your limited time waiting for an “infant” that cannot be seen or touched, what purpose does that serve?

Friends, within yourselves, the capacity to distinguish good from evil, right from wrong, the upright from the deviant, life from death, self from others, and truth from falsehood is the awareness that the scripture calls the “infant.” Yet this “infant” itself does not cling to good or evil, right or wrong, the upright or the deviant, life or death, self or others, or truth or falsehood. It does not cling to appearances, yet it responds to external circumstances with thoughts; thoughts give rise to wisdom, and wisdom gives rise to awareness. Because there is good, evil can be discerned; because there is right, wrong can be discerned; because there is the upright, the deviant can be discerned; because there is life, death can be discerned; because there is oneself, others can be discerned; because there is truth, falsehood can be discerned.

It has no attachment to an “I,” but neither does it regard everything as empty and nonexistent. It is simply that subtle awareness through which a person perceives, acts, and responds to all things in the world. From the perspective of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) in its undivided state, this awareness may also be described as knowing without knowledge or distinctions. This is innate knowing: Buddhism calls it the “good and wise guide,” while Daoism calls it the “infant Original Spirit.” In short, these are all names for that one subtle, empty, lucid nature that is never obscured.

You see only Daoist practitioners (those who cultivate the Way) enter a meditation chamber—a place for seclusion and quiet cultivation—and sit in meditation. You hear them say that “cherishing awareness” means innate knowing. Buddhists call it “the good and wise guide,” the wisdom or teacher that can lead people to awakening; Daoists call it the “Original Spirit of the infant,” symbolizing an unstained nature and Original Spirit. In essence, all these expressions refer to that spark of numinous clarity and subtle wonder within everyone, an innate nature that has not been obscured.

You see only Daoist practitioners enter a meditation chamber, sit in meditation, and speak of “conceiving a fetus,” claiming that after ten months of cultivation in seclusion, they will have achieved something. Have you ever seen a Daoist actually manifest the form of an infant and emit light? Before entering seclusion, these people do not understand the conditions of Heaven and Earth, ghosts and spirits, or the changes of Yin-Yang. They do not know the fortunes and misfortunes of human life or what good or ill may lie ahead, nor do they know the year of their own birth or the time of their death. After leaving seclusion, they remain just as ignorant. If they cannot even see through life and death, and cannot liberate themselves, how can they liberate others? With life and death still unclear and their fortunes impossible to predict, they remain constrained by Heaven and Earth. While alive, they are no different from ordinary people, beset by the needs of food and clothing and by suffering. After death, they are no different from ordinary mortals: they must still be buried, and their bodies decay. In that case, is sitting in meditation during seclusion not pointless?

Everyone, first set aside attachment and forget the mind that makes distinctions; then enter seclusion for quiet cultivation. First settle the entanglements of love and desire; then sit in meditation. You should also first bring the mind of sexual desire under control.

Disciples, first let go of attachments and set aside the mind that makes distinctions. Only then enter the quiet chamber to cultivate. First put aside all concerns over romantic ties, then begin seated meditation. When thoughts of sexual desire have long been quieted, the Kidney Qi will become abundant, allowing what is called “true lead” (a Neidan term for the essence-Qi in the kidneys) to rise. When anger has long been quieted, the mind will become empty and still, allowing what is called “true mercury” (a Neidan term for the Shen, or Qi, of the heart) to descend. When meals are properly arranged and suited to the seasons, the Spleen and Stomach will grow strong, enabling mercury and lead to gather and stabilize.

When emotions and desires are empty and still, the Lung Qi will be nourished. When one’s nature is settled, the Liver Qi will flourish. When Kidney Water is abundant, the eyes will shine and the pupils will be black as lacquer. When Heart Fire subsides, the mouth will produce ample saliva, sweet as rice wine when swallowed. When the Hun and Po are clear and calm, Liver Qi will flow freely and the sinews and bones will grow light and supple. When the Po spirit is settled, fluids in the lungs will flow freely, and the beard and hair will turn black. When the Spleen is strong and the Stomach Qi is harmonized, the tongue and throat will feel clear and nimble, and the voice will ring out. When the body’s orifices are unobstructed and Qi and blood are abundant, illness will diminish. With a plain diet, upright Qi can grow.

Observe the seasons and the seasonal markers of the eight festivals, through which the ancients divided the year, and care for the body accordingly; then external pathogens such as wind, cold, heat, and damp will find it difficult to enter. Gather in the six desires and seven emotions, restrain the temperament, and still the mind; then demons and spirits will be unable to disturb you. Contemplate the Great Dao, and innate knowing will emerge, bringing one’s nature into clarity. Realize “suchness,” a Buddhist term for the true and unchanging nature, and you can see through the physical body and reveal the Dharma body, the spiritual ground beyond the flesh. First cultivate and deliver yourself, then go on to deliver others; in the end, the work still begins with delivering yourself.

Disciples, only when you have cultivated to this point have you just begun to cross the threshold of the Great Dao. After this, enter the quiet chamber and sit in stillness. Above, you can reach the Way of Heaven; below, you can fathom the workings of the earth. The states of ghosts and spirits and the pivotal workings of Heaven and Earth can all be sensed and grasped within a single breath in and out.

Disciples, reaching this level of cultivation means you have only just crossed the threshold of the Great Dao. Next, enter a quiet chamber and sit in stillness. You will be able to reach upward to the Way of Heaven and look downward into the depths of the earth, understanding the state of spirits and ghosts and the workings of Heaven and Earth. The opening and closing of Heaven and Earth will seem to take place within a single breath, and the creation and transformation of the myriad things will feel as though they rest in your palm. All of this comes from observing precepts and entering meditation. Thus, you enter the quiet chamber as an ordinary person and leave it as a sage, possessing a Dharma body—the transcendent state of body and mind attained by a practitioner of the Way.

When you understand the Great Dao, your vision widens, and you see through the illusory, insubstantial nature of all conditions and things. With a staff in hand, your heart and mind grow broad, as though you could encompass Heaven and Earth within emptiness. Before another’s thoughts have even arisen, you already know them; before an event has taken place, you can already foresee it. This is what is called the Six Spiritual Powers—the six extraordinary abilities described by practitioners. Your wisdom has no limit; celestial demons will come and bow before you, protecting you in secret. Practitioners of other paths will also take refuge in you, all of them filled with reverence. Mount Sumeru, the great mountain of Buddhist cosmology, can fit inside a mustard seed without crowding it; the worlds in the ten directions can be hidden inside a grain of millet without anyone noticing. When your power expands, you can roam freely wherever you please across the earth, its mountains, and its rivers. When you draw it inward and conceal it, your body can shrink to the size of a speck of dust or a grain of rice, and settle wherever you wish.

Disciples, this wondrous Dao transcends worldly action and leads to the realm of ultimate reality. To begin, you must investigate subtle principles and thereby grasp the workings of Heaven. So for now, set aside blind cultivation and indiscriminate sitting in meditation, as well as the many unhelpful or inessential practices: cooking lead and refining mercury, visualization and contemplation, refining the dead and aiding the departed, receiving promotions and registers, raising Qi and waving fans, reciting scriptures and proclamations, mixing medicines and burning thatch, taking elixirs and gathering herbs, and Yin-Yang furnaces and cauldrons. With sincerity, make a vow before Heaven: from this day onward, and for all time to come, may you only wish to understand as soon as possible the principles of birth, death, coming, and going; escape the suffering of the cycle of birth and death; leave behind all forms of attachment and partial views; and hear the wondrous Dao.

Alas, the words “leave behind all forms of attachment and partial views” are spoken precisely for you. They are an important expedient for investigating subtle principles and grasping the workings of Heaven.

You ask what it means to fall into various heterodox paths. It means practicing blindly, sitting in meditation without understanding, or following methods such as “cooking lead and refining mercury”—a term from Daoist internal alchemy. Setting aside such heterodox teachings, I will tell you plainly: investigating subtle principles and awakening to the workings of Heaven—these are skillful means for reaching the Great Dao.

What are these various heterodox paths? Blind practice, confused meditation, and methods such as cooking lead and refining mercury all belong to them. Why call them “margins”? They are neither centered nor able to lead straight to the heart of the matter. Imagine a table: these paths stay along its four edges and cannot enter the center. Even if they draw near the center, they remain on the table. Only by leaving the table behind can one enter the boundless, unconstrained emptiness of the Great Dao. As long as one cannot leave it, one remains limited by material form and cannot be said to have attained the Dao. That is why these paths are called “marginal.” The word also suggests remoteness, crookedness, boundaries, and riverbanks: what is remote is off center; what is crooked is not upright; boundaries prevent expansiveness; and banks obstruct free, clear passage.

Clinging to this fleshly body and treating it as an ancient cypress or an evergreen pine that will last for millennia only entraps the true master within—the person’s nature or spirit. It is like abandoning a lamp to search for fire, grasping at the false while discarding the real. Is that not a mistaken path? Even if one achieves something through such practice, one is merely seeking liberation for oneself. Without seeing one’s own nature, even attaining a spiritual rank is no guarantee of release: once one’s blessings are exhausted, one will still fall into the cycle of rebirth and find it difficult to transcend the Three Realms—the Desire Realm, the Form Realm, and the Formless Realm. What benefit would that bring to living beings?

Understand this: becoming an immortal, a Buddha, or a sage depends above all on letting go of the self, accommodating others, and making vast vows to save living beings. Some people who meditate today cannot even liberate themselves. How, then, can they guide others to liberation? Can that truly be called benefiting oneself?

Everyone, the key to becoming an immortal, a Buddha, or a sage lies in setting aside the self, accommodating others, and making the great vow to deliver all beings from suffering. Some people today meditate and practice cultivation, yet have not even freed themselves. How, then, can they save others? Such people are called “self-liberators”—those who seek liberation only for themselves. How could they truly understand the Great Dao and the principle of delivering all beings? Instead, they cultivate along a narrow, one-sided path. This is a great pity.

The Perfected Lord uses a verse—a teaching expressed in poetic lines—to make the key to cultivation clear: let go of thoughts concerned only with oneself, and do not cling to a single, one-sided method of practice. Bring schools that have strayed from the right path back to what is balanced and proper, and turn deviant teachings toward the true teaching. Let limited realms become open and unobstructed; let the vast world extend until it links Heaven and Earth; let bounded channels expand beyond all boundaries; and let the unfathomable Dharma Body—the Buddhist term for a body that transcends appearances and embodies truth—unfold until one no longer clings to distinctions between self and others.

The scripture says: “You cannot see my form or hear my voice. Leave behind every kind of attachment, and this is called the wondrous Dao.”

To realize the Great Dao, one must first open the heart and broaden the mind. Ask: Where does life come from, and where does it go after death? Seek the company of teachers who are learned and cultivated, and make friends with people who are wise and sincere. Keep benevolent thoughts, and examine the principles carefully.

Human life is like a cup of tea: the tea is held within the cup and confined by its shape, while the water takes on the flavor of the tea. Pour the tea into the Eastern Sea, and its flavor disperses through the vast, surging waters. If you wish to seek your own origin, and call the water infused with tea flavor “water,” it still bears discernible qualities and characteristics. Yet the sea, too, contains the origin of my life. So what, then, is my true origin? Seek it with care until you reach the state of looking without seeing and listening without hearing.

After long and steady cultivation, the heart will one day open up of its own accord, and one’s vision will at once become clear and limpid. Then you will see your original nature, grasp the subtle workings of Heaven, and reveal this true nature. Only then will you believe that the Great Dao has never failed anyone.

Disciples, the sages, immortals, and Buddhas attained the Dao and ascended to heaven long ago. To understand their intentions, we must first understand the principles they taught. Only then can we grasp their methods of cultivation and put them into practice. Those who can carry out what they did become attuned to the sages, immortals, and Buddhas.

Where do the minds of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas reside? Deep within each person. Where are their principles found? In the things we encounter before us in everyday life. Where are their methods of cultivation recorded? In the scriptures and historical writings. Their actions do not stand apart from worldly life; they put their teachings into practice within it. Their character and spiritual attainment, too, are rooted in this mind of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas.

If we recognize within ourselves the mind of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas, we can understand their principles. Understanding the principles allows us to grasp their methods of cultivation; grasping those methods allows us to carry out their work. When we understand the principles, the right path can be established. When we grasp the methods, we can perceive and see clearly the many causes and conditions. When we put them into practice, our achievements can be built. In this way, the workings of Heaven continue without end and endure through countless kalpas. We should know that such a person already possesses the spiritual powers and wisdom of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas, as well as their original nature. It can be said that this person has understood their mind.

Next, by receiving the Central Ultimate Precepts, the Daoist precepts, and opening and expanding one’s nature and spirit, one can make the Mysterious Pass—the inner gate spoken of in cultivation—fully accessible and clear, and thereby understand the principles of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas. Further, by receiving the Celestial Immortal Precepts and carefully studying profound and subtle teachings, one’s wisdom becomes complete and unobstructed, allowing one to understand the Dao of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas.

At that point, one can transcend all constraints and move freely without restriction: one can become great or small, advance or stop, go forward or back, live or die, bend or stretch, enter or leave. One can become a sage or become an immortal or Buddha. One can even enter the Four Births—womb-born, egg-born, moisture-born, and transformation-born—and the Six Paths, the six realms of existence through which beings transmigrate. From the highest heavens to the deepest hells, one can teach wherever one goes and save beings throughout the kalpas. These transformations are beyond measure; one can manifest a body and expound the Dharma. One is like a boundless mirror reflecting every shape and image, allowing all things to interpenetrate. In this way, one can carry out the work of the sages, immortals, and Buddhas, fulfill their character, and realize their spiritual fruition.

Disciples, when your cultivation reaches this level, it is called investigating the subtle principles and awakening to the mysteries of Heaven.

Long ago, the Yellow Emperor lost the Dark Pearl, a symbol of the profound Dao and truth, in the Red River. He sent Li Zhu to search for it, but Li Zhu could not find it. He then sent Qi Gou, who also failed. At last he sent Wang Xiang, and Wang Xiang found it.

Li Zhu represents the physical heart shaped by acquired experience: seeking through ordinary awareness and distinctions leads nowhere. Qi Gou represents the side of human nature bound by affection and desire, concerned with purity of body and mind and reliant on fasting and cultivation. Seeking by these means alone also leads nowhere. Why could Wang Xiang find it? “Wang” means “without,” and “xiang” means “form” or “appearance.” Wang Xiang is what has neither body nor image. The pearl is called the “Dark Pearl,” rather than the “Bright Pearl,” precisely because it is not something visible to the eye.

Confucius said, “Above form is the Dao; below form are things.” The Great Ancestor Taishang, the Daoist honorific for Laozi, said, “Look within at your own heart, and the heart has no fixed heart; look outward at your own body, and the body has no fixed form.” Disciples, the highest principle is reality itself. The essence of cultivation for sages, worthies, immortals, and Buddhas lies in not clinging to appearances. To cultivate while clinging to appearances is like the Yellow Emperor seeking the Dark Pearl through wisdom and fasting alone.

The Yellow Emperor lost the Dark Pearl, but Wang Xiang recovered it. To grasp the subtle principles, ordinary people too must seek through a mind free of fixation and attachment. I have now fully revealed the mysteries of Heaven and the mind-seal—the essential teachings of cultivation transmitted from heart to heart. Examine them carefully and hold to them with caution. Do not let the Dark Pearl in the Red River be lost again; once it is gone, who knows where it might be found?

Then the disciples who had received the precepts bowed together in reverence and took refuge, listening quietly to these verses of instruction:

“Even ten thousand scrolls of immortal scriptures cannot tell all there is to know about cultivating the Dao. This text, which points directly to the original mind, has laid bare the essential teaching without reserve. I urge you not to chase after all manner of complicated methods, for the Dao is within the mind, not in books. If you cling to outward forms in seeking to understand the profound principles, distracting thoughts will instead arise in your heart. If you meditate with a deliberate desire for success, sitting for a long time may lead you astray. Many people take the wrong path, while few attend to the true and proper Dao. A perfected person has no fixed appearance or form; the workings of Heaven are revealed everywhere. If you cannot see the road before you, you will only grope in the dark. Do not leave the proper path and enter a side road.”

At that time, after Kunyangzi and the assembly had completed the dedication of merit—transferring the merit of chanting scriptures and spiritual practice to all beings or to a particular recipient—the disciple Shi Shouping, who had received the precepts, compiled the material into a booklet and presented it to the preceptor, a Daoist teacher who transmits precepts and teachings, asking him to write an instruction for later students. The preceptor said, “There is no need. If you simply receive it through successive transmission from others, then after 170 years it will be compiled as the Biyuan Tan Jing.”