《胎息经笺疏》

The Commentary and Explanation on the Scripture of Embryonic Breathing annotates the Scripture of Embryonic Breathing. The scripture says that an embryo is formed from Qi moving unseen within. Once the embryo exists, Qi circulates and comes to rest within it. When Qi enters the body, a person is born; when Shen (spirit) leaves the physical form, a person dies. Understanding the relationship between Shen and Qi allows one to cultivate body and mind and seek long life.

In cultivation, one must hold firmly to “emptiness and nonbeing”—a tranquil state of mind undisturbed by distracting thoughts—to nurture Shen and Qi. Wherever Shen moves, Qi moves with it; wherever Shen rests, Qi rests as well. To seek long life, one must bring Shen and Qi into mutual communion and concentration. When thoughts are still, with nothing coming or going outward and nothing entering or leaving inward, one can naturally become settled and remain so. Diligent practice: this is the true path of cultivation.

The scripture above contains eighty-three characters arranged in seventeen sentences.

The circumstances behind the commentary: the reasons for writing this annotation.

I was sickly from childhood and lacked the wisdom to see all things as one and accept the workings of Heaven. I often worried about life and death. For this reason, I studied widely the various methods of nourishing life and cultivating oneself, as well as the teachings of Daoism and Buddhism. I hoped to prolong my life and preserve my body, and from there to transcend the world and attain the fruit of the Dao.

Yet looking back over the years, I see that the more I learned, the more complicated my activities became. This was far removed from the aim of “daily decrease”—gradually letting go of distracting thoughts and desires—and I knew it well.

Then, on the twenty-fifth day of winter in 1951, the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month, I was resting at home with nothing to do. I began to wonder: after half a lifetime of studying the Dao, what had I actually gained? And when impermanence—that is, death—arrived, how would I face it? These thoughts jolted me awake. I resolved to correct my past mistakes and put cultivation into practice myself.

But what should guide my practice? I carefully examined various Daoist books. Those containing fabrications and errors could be set aside at once. Among the rest, some were too profound in their reasoning, such as the Cantong qi and the Wuzhen pian. Others were scattered and complex, with no clear essentials, as was true of most works in the Daoist Canon. If one sought a book suitable as a model for beginners, accurate and concise, and helpful for practical cultivation, there was perhaps only the Jing of Embryonic Breathing.

Unfortunately, the existing explanations of the scripture and the commentary by Master Huan Zhen were not satisfactory. I therefore decided at once to consult the important discussions by various authors and write an annotated commentary, explaining the scripture line by line, for my own practice. I also hoped to use it to compare and confirm its methods with those of Esoteric Buddhism. In recent years, I have been occupied with compiling medical and Buddhist works, and this project was long set aside. Now that both undertakings are largely complete, I have deliberately begun this work. This is why I am writing the commentary.

I once read the final words of the True Person Min Xiaogen: “If you deliberately seek hardship, you will waste your life. If you become obsessed with novelty and showing off the strange, you will gain nothing in the end. Only this ordinary Dao is the secret to returning to the root and source. After three hundred days of cultivation, you can understand this at every moment.” These are fine words, and they accord exactly with what I have always thought.

Investigating the Scripture’s Origins

The Fetal Breathing Scripture in the Daozong Shu is a forged attribution. The Xingming Guizhi includes this passage in the section “Concealing Qi in the Cavity” and titles it The Fetal Breathing Scripture of Patriarch Bodhidharma. The title alone is enough to show that the attribution is questionable. For this reason, when the True Person Wu Chongxu quotes the opening two lines of the scripture in the Tianxian Zhengli, he calls it only “the ancient Fetal Breathing Scripture,” without naming an author.

The Xingming Guizhi was published during the Wanli era of the Ming dynasty, and the Tianxian Zhengli was probably written around the same time. This scripture may have been written by someone knowledgeable in Daoist cultivation during the Song or Yuan dynasty and later attributed to Bodhidharma.

The Scripture’s Main Ideas

The main subject of this scripture is Neidan (internal alchemy). The Neidan discussed here is Yin Dan: it is cultivated and formed through coordinated practice within one’s own body, without assistance from another person. It is also called “Jade-Liquid Return to the Elixir.” This differs from the “Jade Liquid” described by the Southern School, which refers to gathering the medicine after laying the foundation and condensing it into an elixir. What is actually discussed here is the practice of realizing one’s nature—that is, understanding one’s original nature.

Although Daoist cultivation ultimately seeks the same goal, it can begin in many ways. Some people practice alone, some use medicines, some rely on a cauldron or vessel—an implement or symbolic furnace used in cultivation—and some combine several methods. Among methods that use a vessel, there are different approaches: some use only the “tiger,” while others employ the Dragon and Tiger together. These methods vary in depth because practitioners differ in their innate capacities and accumulated merit. Yet attaining great completion ultimately depends on the “meeting of the Three Families,” the union of different elements from which the elixir is formed. In this degenerate age, it is exceedingly difficult to cultivate as Jingyang or Sanfeng did. One can only first exhaust one’s nature and fulfill one’s life: complete this aspect of cultivation first, so that the practice of the other level may be reached more easily. This is also what Perfected Wenyi meant: since it is difficult to perfect both form and spirit, one cannot first realize one’s nature without having fulfilled one’s life.

Yet most people who have sought the Dao, both in ancient and modern times, have failed to distinguish inner cultivation from outer cultivation, and so have lumped the methods of the Elixir Way together, producing a welter of conflicting claims. In fact, Yin-Yang has different levels: what is within the body, what comes from things of the same kind—that is, cultivation using corresponding substances—and what belongs to the void. Accordingly, elixir methods also differ: there are Jade Liquid, Gold Liquid, and the Mysterious Pearl. Some practice the Jade Liquid method but call it Gold Refining; others practice the Gold Liquid method but mistakenly call it Jade Refining. Still others know of Jade Refining and Gold Refining but do not understand the way of the Mysterious Pearl’s transformation of the body, and in the end can speak only of corpse liberation—the Daoist notion of leaving behind the body and freeing oneself from its form.

In recent years, only Mr. Chen Yingning of Anhui has classified Jade Liquid as cultivation of the Dao and understood Gold Liquid as alchemical refinement. Amid a confused and obscure array of explanations, he has opened a clear path, enabling those who study the Dao to discern and resolve their doubts. The author praises him for having “first arrived at what was already in my heart,” and holds that these principles would be difficult to understand without both broad learning and a deep lineage of instruction.

The earlier division of Yin-Yang cultivation into “within one body,” “of the same kind,” and “of the void” was only a provisional way of explaining it. In fact, Southern School cultivation has relied on the method of “the same kind” from the outset, progressing from the shallow to the profound through steps that differ from one stage to another. The Northern School, by contrast, has mainly focused on solitary cultivation throughout; yet in the end, what is called “solitary cultivation” is not truly practiced in complete isolation. The Eastern and Western Schools combine the methods of the Southern and Northern Schools: they begin with the Northern School’s methods and attain results through the Southern School’s. The methods used also differ because each school has its own lineage, a point that should not be overlooked.

In addition, Zhang Sanfeng’s method uses “Dragon and Tiger” at every stage—a symbol in Daoist Neidan of Yin and Yang joining. Li Huiqing’s commentary on the Cantong qi and Weng Baoguang’s commentary on the Wuzhen pian—here, the Xue commentary among the three versions of the Wuzhen pian—are both relatively close to this view. Lu Ziye’s commentary on the Wuzhen pian, however, explicitly states that the two traditions’ methods are different. This, too, should not be overlooked.

At first, I thought neither tradition’s method was a genuine path. Only after studying Buddhist esoteric practices did I realize that my former understanding had been as limited as a frog at the bottom of a well. In general, the path of cultivating the Real has many methods, like willows everywhere that can serve as places to tether a horse, or waterways before every home that can carry one to Chang’an. If one meets a genuine teacher and receives genuine oral instructions, any method may lead to true attainment. What matters is the practitioner’s circumstances and the effort they actually put into practice.

The ancient immortals said, “fetal dwelling” means allowing the spirit to settle into a state like that of a fetus; “breath” means bringing the breath to stillness. “Fetal dwelling” describes the spirit resting peacefully and deeply, without agitation, fear, or thought, like an infant settled in the mother’s womb. “Breath” means the cessation of coarse, heavy breathing—that is, no longer relying on external respiration. The breath is no longer deliberately guided, and the channels within the body then harmonize naturally, bringing clarity to the mind.

Understand that Qi is like water, and the spirit is like the moon: when the water’s surface ripples, the moon’s reflection wavers; when the movement of Qi is stirred, the spirit too becomes unsettled. When the water is clear and still, the moon’s reflection becomes distinct; when Qi is settled, the spirit becomes clear. In “Jade Fluid Returning to the Elixir” (a method or stage of Neidan practice), everything depends on the spirit and Qi relying on and gathering with one another, like a fetus and its mother during pregnancy, without dissipating outward. Only by keeping the spirit within Qi and Qi within the spirit, allowing them to remain joined and reach profound stillness, can the inner elixir form naturally. This is the meaning of the Fetal Breathing Scripture. “Scripture” refers to the constant Way; the practice of fetal spirit and breath described here is the constant Way followed in Jade Fluid cultivation.

Shen (spirit) may also be called the “embryo.” Consider the state of a fetus in the mother’s womb: after the two Qi, Yin and Yang, mingle, the fetus takes shape within the womb and continues to live there naturally. Every breath infuses it, and at every moment it is being formed. Yet a person’s mind and spirit are in turmoil all day, and find no peace even in dreams. How, then, can one expect them to settle quietly within, becoming subtle yet boundless?

I have already discussed how Qi can affect the will; we must also recognize that the will can affect Qi. The many distracting thoughts that surge up are not the true mind or the true Shen (spirit), but are like the wind. Water is calm by nature, but the wind raises waves upon it. When the wind stops, the water grows clear again, and the moon’s reflection appears naturally in its brightness. Thus, those who understand the practice of the Dao must cast off the “three minds” of past, present, and future, and dissolve the “four marks” of attachment. When delusive thoughts have ceased, the true Shen—the inner numinous presence—will shine forth clearly, and Qi will naturally return to its root, reaching a state in which nothing goes out or comes in.

Shi Yizi (Wan Qixing) discusses the method of turning the breath—that is, circulating and regulating the inner breath:

“The Dao exists between Heaven and Earth, running through all ages in this single breath. The Dao cannot be seen directly; what one can observe with a still mind and come to understand is only this breath. Yet there are true breath and ordinary breath. Ordinary breath is everyday breathing, which people readily recognize. Within ordinary breath there is also true breath, which only practitioners can experience. The breathlessness deep within true breath, and the ceaselessness within breathlessness, can be discerned only by realized adepts who have attained the Dao.

“When the mind reaches utmost emptiness and stillness, everyday breathing gradually subsides, and true breath comes forth. In a deep, indistinct state, true breath appears, and breathlessness is thereby established. In a state that is continuous and subtle, breathlessness settles, and ceaselessness then begins to flow. To understand how to turn the breath is to understand how to turn consciousness; to understand how to turn consciousness is to understand how to turn the subtle beginnings of change. To understand these beginnings of change—is that not to approach the mysterious realm? Yet turning the breath is not easy. To understand how to turn the breath, one must first understand how to separate the breaths; to understand how to separate them, one must first understand how to part from the breath; to understand how to part from it, one must first understand how to unite the breaths; and to understand how to unite them, one must first understand how to let the breath flow freely. Once this is understood, one knows that the myriad things return to the One, that the One differentiates into Two, and that the Two return once more to the One. Is this not what the Zhuangzi means by following the natural order of Heaven and Earth, mastering the transformations of the Six Energies, and thus roaming in boundless realms?”

The above is an explanation of the scripture’s title.

“The embryo forms within hidden breath…”

The spirit is like the driver, and Qi is like the horse. Just as the horse carries the driver forward, Qi guides the activity of the spirit. Therefore, if you want the spirit to settle and move freely, remaining quiet and steadfast like a pregnant woman carrying a child, you must first calm Qi, returning it to its source and letting it lie hidden and still. Otherwise, this will be difficult to achieve.

Where, then, should Qi return? And how can it be calmed? These questions invite much investigation. Cao Wenyi said, “Concentrate the vital energy and bring it to gentleness; then the spirit can abide for a long time.” The Recorded Sayings of the Northern Journey recounts that when Qiu Zu (Qiu Chuji) summoned his disciples while entering deep samadhi, he spoke of various methods of cultivation. He said that visualizing the lower Dantian was most important, though in the end it was only one method and could not yet be called attaining the Dao. Master Huanzhen’s Commentary on the Scripture of Fetal Breathing says that three inches below the navel is the Sea of Qi, also called the lower Dantian.

Commentary: The lower Dantian is where spirit and Qi return to their source. It lies roughly behind the navel and somewhat lower, but there is no need to fixate on an exact number of inches or fractions of an inch; it is enough to know its approximate location. The ancients said it was “behind the navel and in front of the waist, below the heart and above the kidneys.” Here, “kidney” refers to the Yin Qiao point. The phrase “the region in between” means that one should grasp the general area without becoming attached to a fixed point.

The Compass Guide to the Central [Cavity] discusses the “Mysterious Female,” the fundamental gateway in Daoist thought through which primordial Qi is nurtured and transformations arise. It says that within the body there is a place about one inch in size where Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—the “Three Powers”—converge. It lies roughly above the kidneys and below the heart, seeming to be hidden within the body; it is called the “Mysterious Pass,” the opening through which primordial Qi arises in inner cultivation. Do not deliberately focus the mind on guarding it, or search for it with the intention of obtaining it: if you consciously guard it, you will never find it; if you seek it with no awareness, you will see nothing. Instead, concentrate without distraction and let the spirit become settled. Gather the mind and set aside scattered thoughts; even out the breathing, and in stillness remain awake and aware, allowing neither dullness nor agitation to overcome the spirit. When the breath becomes calm and harmonious, you can enter a state of meditative stillness.

In that stillness, observe the inner landscape. As soon as the mind turns toward it, signs begin to appear; then you notice a breath arising from the Mysterious Pass, continuous and unbroken, deep and steady. Nurture it with sincere intention and observe it with the mind, settling the six faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind. Embryonic breathing—the subtle, natural breathing state of inner cultivation—gradually becomes settled. Do not hold your breath or deliberately count it; let it happen naturally. In utmost stillness, the exhalation is like a fish in spring water; in utmost movement, the inhalation is like an insect in hibernation. The breath circulates and suffuses the body, opening and closing; its subtle workings are inexhaustible.

After a while, forget the breath, allowing spirit and Qi to unite and return to undifferentiatedness. Let the mind become utterly empty and still, abiding in stillness with single-minded focus. Do not form thoughts or cling to the breath as it comes and goes, entering and leaving. When the spirit is clear and settled, this is called “the breathing of the True Person reaching to the heels”—the True Person’s breath is deep and long, as though arising from the heels. When breathing reaches its utmost depth, spirit and Qi respond to one another; this is the sign of that state.

Primordial Qi arises from this, and the true breath is set in motion from here. Wherever the mind’s intention reaches, the workings of creation and transformation can appear; the place where the breath arises is the Mysterious Pass. It has no fixed height or depth, left or right, front or back. It is centered and balanced, the body’s proper center. Gathering Qi, joining it, refining it, bathing it, warming and nurturing it, forming the embryo, and finally shedding the embryo and transforming the spirit—all take place here.

This pass changes as Yang Qi expands and Yin Qi contracts, and in itself has no fixed form. When the mind’s intention focuses on it, the pass opens; its opening and closing each have their proper time. A hundred days of cultivation can establish the foundation and nurture the “mother of Qi,” the root of primordial Qi. When the mind is empty and still, an image of clarity will appear naturally. It is said that when the Yellow Emperor practiced inner observation for three months in ancient times, this was the path he followed.

According to Perfected Chen, this is a method of cultivating by bringing the Middle and Lower Dantian together, gradually nurturing the root of Qi. When the mind is empty and still, it appears naturally. The Yellow Emperor’s three months of inner observation, described in the Inner Classic of the Yellow Emperor, probably refers to this method of cultivation.

Perfected Chen’s discussion of bringing the Middle and Lower Dantian together is difficult to understand. Perfected Min explains it in the greatest detail in Precious Precepts on the Course of the Way of the Celestial Immortals. He says that when the mind is untouched by distracting thoughts, there is no mental turmoil. Once thoughts settle, the breath can come to rest; once the breath rests, the gates and orifices can open. This is the usual sequence. Yet some people find that when they reach a state of emptiness, stillness, and quietude, the gates and orifices open along with it. What appears in this case is the “Qi cavity,” not yet the “Qi cavity” of primordial vitality. The Qi cavity is where ancestral Qi (the primordial Qi innate from before birth) arises; the cavity of primordial Qi lies within it. Only when the cavity of primordial Qi opens does the Mysterious Pass, the key passage that appears in cultivation, open. Few people know this teaching. Perhaps this is also why Earthly Immortals are more numerous than Celestial Immortals. Even a slight deviation in cultivation can lead to a great difference in the result. As the saying goes, “To learn the road below the mountain, ask someone who has walked it.” Without a teacher’s guidance, one may reach old age without understanding. I was fortunate to receive my teacher’s guidance.

Didn’t my teacher say that without the gates and orifices opening, there is no way to apply the firing process in internal alchemy? And without the cavity of primordial Qi opening, the Sacred Embryo, the inner embryo formed in internal alchemy, cannot take shape. As one lays down thoughts layer by layer, the Mysterious Pass opens. It is both two and not two, both one and not one—like a hen incubating an egg: nothing needs to be said, yet it happens naturally within.

Wan Qixing says that the Qi cavity is below and the cavity of primordial Qi above. They occupy connected locations, but have different openings. He also says that before the Mysterious Pass opens, one simply gathers the Shen at the Qi cavity; this is Human-Origin cultivation, based on the human body. Once the Mysterious Pass opens, one gathers the Shen at the cavity of primordial Qi and enters Heaven-Origin cultivation directly.

From this we can see that beginners usually rely on the Lower Dantian in the abdomen, the Kun abdomen. As Shen is gathered and Qi amassed, the Mysterious Pass appears. It sometimes opens and sometimes disappears: it appears when the work has ripened and vanishes when the Qi activity settles. This is the Kun Furnace, also called the Spirit Furnace, where breathing begins and ceases; in essence, it is the Qi cavity. It is also called the Mysterious Pass because this subtle passage appears after Shen and Qi have merged into one.

The true Mysterious Pass, also called the Mysterious Aperture, appears only after the Ren and Du channels have become unobstructed, ordinary cultivation of the human body has reached its limit, and emptiness and stillness have reached their utmost. Thus, opening the aperture is hardly possible without eight or ten years of work. Once the Mysterious Aperture opens, it remains open. The Shen has a place to rest and reside, so it is also called the Spirit Chamber or Yellow Chamber. Thereafter, Qi rises from the Yin Heel vessel and travels along the midline behind the abdomen and in front of the spine, passing straight through the Mud Pill, the cultivation site within the crown of the head, yet seeming to undergo no ascent, descent, or movement. This is precisely where the Celestial Immortal’s embryo is formed and released, as described by the phrase “the Yellow Center communicates and orders.”

Ge Hong says that breath cultivation (a practice of regulating the breath and directing Qi) was sometimes believed to cure all kinds of illnesses, ward off epidemics, subdue snakes and tigers, stop wounds from bleeding, enable a person to remain underwater or walk across its surface, fend off hunger and thirst, and prolong life. Of these effects, the most important ultimately is “embryonic breathing”: when practice reaches the point that breathing seems as it did in the womb, no longer relying on the nose or mouth, the practice is considered complete.

When first practicing breath cultivation, inhale through the nose, hold the breath, and silently count to 120; then exhale gently through the mouth. Both inhalation and exhalation should be so quiet that you cannot hear them, and you should inhale more than you exhale. You can place a fine feather over the nose and mouth: if it does not move when you exhale, your breathing is sufficiently slight. Gradually increase the count, practicing over a long period until you can count to 1,000. The scripture says that at this point, even an old person will grow young again and the body will recover day by day.

Breath cultivation should be practiced during “living Qi,” not “dead Qi.” The scripture divides the day and night into twelve double-hours: the six from midnight to noon are called the hours of living Qi, and the six from noon to midnight the hours of dead Qi. It holds that practicing during the hours of dead Qi brings no benefit. This is the meaning of the claim that immortals take in the “Six Qi.”

The scripture also describes the extraordinary effects that practitioners can produce by exhaling. Exhaling toward water will make it flow backward several paces; exhaling toward fire will extinguish it. Exhaling toward tigers, wolves, snakes, or vipers will make them lie down or coil up without moving. If someone is wounded by a blade or weapon, exhaling toward the wound will stop the bleeding. It is said that if someone is injured by a venomous creature, you can perform an exhalation prayer toward your own hand from a distance, even without seeing the injured person: men should direct it toward the left hand, women toward the right. The scripture says that even if the injured person is a hundred li away, they will recover at once. In the event of a sudden acute illness or what was called “struck by malevolent influence” (an ancient term for certain acute or unusual symptoms), swallowing “the Qi of three nines” is also said to bring immediate relief.

The scripture observes, however, that people tend to be impatient, and few can quiet themselves enough to practice. An essential requirement of breath cultivation is not to eat too much and to avoid raw vegetables, fatty meat, and rich, flavorful foods, since these make the breath too abundant and difficult to hold. One must also give up anger: excessive anger disrupts the breath and prevents it from filling the body, and may even cause twitching in the chin. For these reasons, few people can persist in the practice.

The Three Essentials of Nurturing Life says: “Nurturing Qi begins with regulating the breath.” Buddhist meditators distinguish four kinds of breathing. When the breath makes a sound as it passes in and out through the nose, it is called “wind.” Focusing on wind makes the breath scattered and unsettled. When the breath is silent but feels obstructed in the nose, it is called “panting.” Focusing on panting makes the breath congeal. When the breath is neither noisy nor obstructed, yet one can still sense its movement, it is called “Qi.” Focusing on Qi makes a person weary. “Resting breath” is breathing so subtle that it seems neither to enter nor to leave.

Zhu Xi’s Inscription on Regulating the Breath says: “At the utmost stillness, exhale gently, like a fish in a spring pond blowing bubbles; at the utmost movement, inhale slowly, like an insect in winter lying hidden.” A spring fish stirs when it receives Qi, but its movement is barely perceptible. A cold-weather insect holds its Qi and lies dormant, hidden without a trace. Regulating the breath should be the same: continuous and fine, subtle and gentle. As you exhale, the Qi throughout the body, in all its bones and openings, flows out; as you inhale, it flows in. Persist in regulating the breath, and true Qi will gradually arise. This is indeed an important secret.

It also says that when nurturing the body, one should not let the breaths within it clash with one another. For example, after walking for a long time, you may wish to sit down. This is a shift from activity to stillness. Before sitting, walk slowly for a few steps to let the breath spread and loosen the body gradually. Once the active Qi has somewhat subsided and still Qi has begun to arrive, sit down. This keeps coarse, heavy breath from disturbing subtle breath. If you have been sitting for a long time and wish to walk, the shift is from stillness to activity. First move your body a little, or stretch your hands and feet as if giving yourself a massage; then begin walking slowly. Otherwise, the subtle breath within the body may clash with the coarse, heavy breath. The same principle applies to other situations.

It also says that practicing the closing of the breath and swallowing Qi is called “embryonic breathing,” a method modeled on the way a fetus breathes in the womb. Moving the tongue to make saliva flow from beneath it and then swallowing it is called “embryonic nourishment.” The “morning glow” consumed in spring refers to the red clouds at sunrise; the “dappled glow” consumed in autumn refers to the red and yellow clouds after sunset; the “flowing dew” consumed in winter refers to the Qi of the north at midnight; and the “Three Yangs” consumed in summer refers to the Qi of the south at noon. Practiced diligently, these methods can make it possible to do without grain. I have tried them myself, and they truly work.

Some accounts say that when first learning breath regulation, one should begin by visualizing the breath moving through the body: the exhaled breath comes from … . They also say that eating “the Three Yangs” in summer means absorbing the Yang Qi of the south at midday. With diligent practice, one can abstain from grains. I have tried this myself, and it does indeed work.

Other accounts say that when first learning breath regulation, one should visualize the breath leaving and entering through the navel. Once the breath has been regulated until it is extremely subtle, one no longer breathes through the mouth and nose, but only through the navel. This is like being in the womb, and so it is called “fetal breathing”—imitating the way a fetus breathes within its mother. First hold a breath, then breathe through the navel, silently counting to eighty-one or one hundred and twenty. Then exhale through the mouth, making the breath as fine as possible. One can place a goose feather over the mouth and nose; if it does not move during exhalation, the standard has been met. Practice gradually, increasing the number of repetitions. After practicing this way for a long time, until reaching one thousand repetitions, even the old can grow young again and recover their youth day by day.

The Immortal Ge (Ge Xuan, an immortal in Daoist legend) would often dive into the depths during the height of summer and remain there for about a day before emerging. It is said this was because he knew how to hold his breath and practice fetal breathing. Knowing only how to hold one’s breath, without understanding fetal breathing, is of no benefit.

Other accounts say that Qi should be gentle, not forceful; smooth, not disordered; gathered, not dispersed. For this reason, Daoists especially avoid anger: when anger arises, the breath becomes forceful rather than gentle, disordered rather than smooth, and breathing itself becomes irregular. Knowing only how to hold one’s breath, without understanding fetal breathing, is likewise of no benefit.

Qi should be gentle, smooth, and gathered. When one becomes angry, the breath turns forceful, disordered, and unstable, and is difficult to gather. Forcing oneself to hold one’s breath can also cause coughing. Those who cultivate the Dao should therefore keep their minds clear and calm, without the slightest trace of ill temper; only then is it appropriate to practice. In addition, eating raw vegetables or rich, fatty foods can make the breath forceful and difficult to hold. Eating foods that are out of season and liable to disturb the breath can make it disordered. Excessive thinking unsettles the breath, while talking too much dissipates it; both should be carefully avoided.

Perfected Zhang Sanfeng said: “Gather the spirit within emptiness and stillness, as though seated atop a high mountain, looking down on the peaks and flowing waters below; or as though lighting a heavenly lamp to illuminate deep, shadowed places. Regulating the breath is not difficult: let the mind and spirit become quiet, and allow the breath to move naturally. I simply keep to its natural state, then direct the light of the mind and spirit downward to observe it. This is regulating the breath. What is called regulating the breath is bringing the breath of the Yin Heel vessel—a bodily region and Qi pathway in Daoist Neidan practice—together with the Qi in the heart at the Qi cavity, an inner bodily point attended to during cultivation.

“He also said: ‘Resting the mind below the navel is called gathering the spirit; directing the breath below the navel is called regulating the breath. Let spirit and breath depend on one another. Keeping the mind and spirit clear and natural is called “do not forget”; following their clarity and naturalness without deliberately driving them is called “do not help.”

“He also said: ‘Resting the mind below the navel is gathering the spirit; directing the breath below the navel is regulating the breath. Spirit and breath rely on one another. Maintain clarity and naturalness without deliberately forgetting; follow what is natural without deliberately nurturing it. Practice in a calm, gentle manner. When the breath has become supple and the mind and spirit are at ease, apply the “drilling character method,” a cultivation technique of probing deeply with the mind and spirit: take emptiness as the place where the mind and spirit come to rest, and silent obscurity—the undisturbed state of deep stillness—as the place where the spirit is nourished. Clarify the mind and spirit again and again, becoming ever more still. Suddenly, spirit and breath forget one another, and spirit and Qi blend. Then, without realizing it, Yang Qi stirs in a hazy, dreamlike state, and one feels almost as though drunk.

“He also said: ‘To regulate the breath, make use of postnatal breathing—the ordinary breathing through the mouth and nose—to find the place of the True Person’s breathing, the inner breath spoken of in Neidan cultivation. An old saying goes: “Postnatal breathing raises a subtle breeze, which sets the True Person’s breathing practice in motion.” When regulating postnatal breathing, let it regulate itself naturally; this can bring forth prenatal breathing. I need only keep the mind open and still, and abide in quietude. Once the True Breath begins to move, the Mysterious Pass—the key point in Neidan cultivation where Qi stirs and spirit and Qi meet—is not far away. Practice in this way, and the foundation-building stage, the initial groundwork of Neidan cultivation, can soon be attained; there is no need to wait a full hundred days.’”

When discussing Fùqì Tāixī (embryonic breathing through the cultivation of respiration), breathing regulation should be the foundation of practice. Zhang Sanfeng explains this method in the greatest detail, so this commentary often draws on his teachings, regarding them as oral instructions passed down by immortals who attained the Dao.

As for breath retention, many ancient immortals opposed the practice, but it can have some value and need not be rejected outright. It must be practiced naturally. It is best to begin by cultivating a long, gentle, and even breath, then proceed gradually. I have discussed this in detail in Research and Practice in Qigong for Health.

In his “Preface to the Four Hundred Words on the Golden Elixir,” the Perfected Zhang Ziyang, a Daoist priest and Neidan practitioner of the Northern Song, says that cultivators must recognize a certain opening within the body, called the “Mysterious Female” (Xuanpin), the gate of generation and transformation in Daoist thought. It is not the heart, kidneys, mouth, nose, spleen and stomach, the lower bowel, or the bladder; nor is it the Dantian or the Niwan, a place of practice in the head. Once this opening is recognized, the “winter solstice” of cultivation—the moment when Yang Qi first arises—as well as the medicines, firing times, bathing (a stage of regulating the breath and refining the body), formation of the Elixir, and leaving the body are all connected with it. This opening has no fixed location and is neither inside nor outside. It is the root of Shen and Qi, a valley of emptiness and nonbeing. It must be realized through one’s own experience; it cannot be sought elsewhere.

It cannot be recognized through guesses born of personal intention; it must be conveyed mind to mind and taught orally. Without this, one can easily fall into delusion. In his commentary, Perfected Min Yide explains that “speculating” means allowing thoughts to arise in the mind. The Great Dao teaches people to forget distracting thoughts, so how could they rely on private conjecture? Yet the warning against speculation and seeking outward, together with the emphasis on mind-to-mind transmission and oral instruction, is meant to help students understand that cultivation must ultimately be grasped inwardly.

Those of high natural ability and a settled mind may read this and understand it at once. Those who need to proceed step by step may worry that they will find no way to begin. Min Yide therefore points to a path of entry: stopping thoughts. To stop thoughts, first restrain anger, moderate desire, and clear away all kinds of distracting thoughts, leaving only right thought. But one must not let other thoughts attach themselves to right thought and quietly take root. When right thought, too, ceases naturally, and the next thought has not yet arisen, a subtle moment arrives in which all worries have vanished.

If one can suddenly become aware of this state when the previous thought has ended and the next has not yet arisen, it is like receiving a mind-to-mind transmission: one can understand it for oneself, without waiting for oral instruction. The key is not to panic in the moment of awareness. As the mind settles, the foundation of cultivation within the body can gradually deepen, and what is called the method will emerge naturally from one’s own experience. Thus the winter solstice, medicines, firing times, and the other matters mentioned earlier are all contained within this opening. To continue relying on private conjecture is like wanting to go south while heading north: how could one reach the destination?

In my view, what is usually taught in Daoist circles is to gather the mind and spirit by cultivating the breath, entering the practice step by step. The matters pointed out by the Perfected One—the winter solstice, the elixir ingredients, the firing process, and the like—are all encompassed by this principle. To speculate wildly from one’s own ideas would be like setting out southward while driving north. How could that possibly work?

In my view, what is usually taught in Daoist circles is to gather the mind and spirit by cultivating the breath, entering the practice step by step. The Perfected One, however, taught a method that begins by stopping thoughts, allowing one to recognize the Mysterious Female directly (a term in Daoist Neidan referring to the source of creation and transformation, or to a crucial point in cultivation). This is the highest Daoist method: cultivating the mind to gather Qi, thereby mastering several essentials of practice at once. This principle has much in common with Chan, the meditation school of exoteric Buddhism, and with the Mahamudra and Great Perfection teachings of esoteric Buddhism, and deserves particular attention.

Breathing as Womb Breathing

How can the breath be brought to a stop? The key is for the mind and spirit to reach profound stillness, as when a woman is pregnant. The ancient immortals said, “When the spirit wanders outward, gather it back. When the spirit returns within the body, the breath naturally returns as well.” Patriarch Lü says in his Hundred-Character Inscription: “Only without distracting thoughts can one be still; once still, the breath naturally becomes even. When the breath is even, breathing comes to a stop; when breathing stops, Qi naturally returns to its root. Once it has returned to the root, one can see one’s nature; only then can one be called genuine.” The mind and spirit enter a hazy, profound state, and the body settles into emptiness and stillness. This is what it means to cultivate the mind and nature in order to nourish life.

Guangchengzi said, “The subtlety of the utmost Dao lies in the deep and obscure; the culmination of the utmost Dao lies in silence and wordlessness. Do not look, do not listen; let the spirit rest in stillness, and the body will naturally become upright. Be sure to remain pure and still. Do not strain the body or dissipate the Jing, so that you may live long. When the eyes see nothing, the ears hear nothing, and the mind does not cling to what it knows, the spirit can remain within the body, and the body can endure. Guard the inner self carefully and restrain the outer senses; too much seeing, hearing, and knowledge will instead cause harm. I hold fast to that one root and abide in peace. Thus I cultivated myself for twelve hundred years, and my body never grew old.”

Pengzu said: Cultivating the Dao does not mean following external things. As long as you do not worry about food and clothing, crave sounds and sights, dwell on victory or defeat and gain or loss, or cling to honor and disgrace; as long as your mind and spirit are not overworked, your body is not overstrained, and you regularly practice the methods of daoyin so that the breath within you flows evenly, you can live for a thousand years. (Some versions add the two phrases “do not think about bending” and “do not think about straightening” after “do not think about food.”)

The Perfected Bai says in On Revealing the Secrets of the Mysterious Pass: “The key to refining and nourishing the body lies in settling the mind and spirit. When the mind and spirit are settled, Qi gathers; when Qi gathers, the internal Golden Elixir can be formed. When the Elixir is formed, the body becomes firm; when the body is firm, the mind and spirit are whole.” The Perfected Tan (Tan Zixiao, a Daoist figure and author of The Book of Transformation) says in On Forgetting: “Forget the body to nourish Qi; forget Qi to nourish Shen; forget Shen to nourish emptiness; forget emptiness to nourish the Dao. When you no longer cling even to ‘forgetting,’ your work is complete.”

The Celestial Master Zhang Xujing says in The Song of the Great Dao: “The Dao is not far away; it is within oneself. Though the forms of all things are empty, human nature is not empty. If one’s nature is undisturbed by external things, harmonious Qi can settle within. When Qi returns to the Dantian (here called the ‘primordial sea’), one may live a long life. To keep the Shen within the body from wandering outward, do not let stray thoughts remain in the heart. When stray thoughts linger, the mind and spirit lose clarity, one’s vital essence is dissipated, and the sinews and bones are harmed. The mind and spirit govern Qi; Qi nourishes the body. One can cultivate health and longevity without relying on complicated techniques. The methods of cultivation are easy to learn, but the Dao is hard to grasp. Even when one has grasped it, without focused practice there can be little success. Thus, of the thousands upon thousands who study, only one or two ultimately achieve real attainment.”

When the mind and spirit wander outward, draw them back. When they return to the body, Qi will naturally gather as well. Persist in this from day to day, from morning to night, and Qi will nourish the body. You can cultivate health and longevity without relying on complicated techniques, and in time a true embryo like a “red child” will naturally form (a reference to fetal breathing or the attainment of Neidan cultivation). The methods of cultivation are easy to learn, but the Dao is hard to grasp. Even when one has grasped it, without focused practice there can be little success. Thus, of the thousands upon thousands who study, only one or two ultimately achieve real attainment. When the mind and spirit wander outward, draw them back. When they return to the body, Qi will naturally gather as well. Persist in this day and night, and Qi will nourish the body. You can cultivate health and longevity without relying on complicated techniques, and in time a true embryo like a “red child” will naturally form.

The Perfected Cao Wenyi said: “When the mind and spirit do not wander outward, Qi naturally settles.”

The Perfected Danyang says in the Recorded Sayings: “My master said that Qi is difficult to control. It comes on as swiftly as a galloping horse; only when the mind has become still is it easy to bring under control. You must let go of your craving for external things. Even amid the dazzling bustle before your eyes, keep the heart of a Dao cultivator, as though you were in a secluded mountain valley. Unless you reach a state of no-mind, you cannot master your own thoughts. Thus, the essential thing in cultivating the Dao is no-mind.”

The Recorded Sayings from the Northern Journey says: “I will tell you plainly now: these are not my own words, but the teachings of my master, the Perfected. When people study the Dao and do good, at first they are all diligent and earnest. But before long, they grow slack and fall back. This is because they inwardly crave some particular result. When they see no progress, their doubts remain unresolved, and they abandon the path halfway through.

“The sages taught later generations in the hope that people would dispel deluded thoughts and recover their original nature, keep desires from disturbing the heart, and return it to a calm, natural state. This is the foundation for entering the Dao. Do the sages have no feelings? They are simply able to keep their feelings from moving the heart. It is like the changing seasons and the cycles of cold and heat in Heaven and Earth: thunder, lightning, wind, and rain arise in constant succession, yet the substance of the open void is never shaken. When those who study the Dao understand this, they arrive at the ordinary, natural state. That is why it is said, ‘The ordinary is the Dao.’

“First, hold fast to this ordinary mind. The practice and accumulation of merit, day after day and year after year, are within your own power. But when the Great Dao will appear, and when the results of your practice will come, are not yours to decide. Do your utmost in what you can do, and leave the outcome to Heaven’s will. When your cultivation is complete, the Dao will come of itself. To pursue it with deliberate intent is to fall back into deluded thought.”

It is also said that clarity and stillness have both inner and outer aspects, and can be achieved through either non-action or deliberate action. Only clarity and stillness reached without contrivance, by following what is natural, are genuine. This is the state attained by sages and worthies.

Some people who cultivate the Dao today make visualization—concentrating on an imagined scene—and breath regulation their principal practices. These methods certainly have benefits, but they may not bring cultivation to completion. It is like keeping flowers sheltered through the winter until they bloom: remarkable as this may be, they will ultimately bear no fruit. Only Wuwei (non-action) and stillness represent the highest level of cultivation. “Freedom from leakage” is the measure of its results; here, it means that Jing and Qi no longer dissipate.

The scripture continues: after three years without leakage, the lower Elixir forms; after six years, the middle Elixir forms, bringing a state difficult to put into words; after nine years, the upper Elixir forms and moves into the Numinous Pellet (the upper Dantian in the head). The three palaces—the upper, middle, and lower Dantian—rise, descend, and circulate, bringing transformations without end. Even the countless billions of emanations arise from this.

How can one reach this state? The scripture says one must take an ordinary, balanced mind as one’s foundation. When the mind is balanced, Shen is settled; when Shen is settled, Jing gathers; when Jing gathers, Qi comes into harmony. This state then appears naturally in one’s face and flows naturally through one’s limbs; everything follows its own course. This is precisely because an ordinary, balanced mind was made the foundation from the outset.

What one can achieve through one’s own effort should, of course, be pursued with all one’s strength. What depends on the right time and circumstances cannot be forced. Only through continually accumulating good deeds and cultivation can one, upon reaching the appropriate degree, come naturally to insight and attainment.

It is also said that Patriarch Qiu (Qiu Chuji) once remarked: “Danyang (Ma Danyang) and I met the Patriarch together and learned the Daoist teachings. The Patriarch made me continue my worldly labor and would not allow me even a moment’s rest. So Danyang and I privately discussed the subtle principles of the Dao. One day, the Patriarch shut the door, and through a crack I heard him teaching the method of ‘the Valley Spirit never dies’—a practice centered on regulating the breath through emptiness and stillness—and methods of breath regulation. After a long while, I pushed the door open and went in, and the Patriarch stopped speaking.

“After that, once I had finished my worldly duties, I worked hard to practice the methods I had overheard. Even though I practiced them thoroughly, Danyang attained success in the Dao in just two and a half years. I endured hardship, yet after eighteen or nineteen years there was still no sign of success. The Patriarch had taught us the same method of ‘the One Dao,’ so why did the time needed to succeed differ? It was simply because each person’s accumulated merit and depth of practice from past lives differed; therefore, some attain the Dao sooner and others later. Danyang had not practiced only in this lifetime. By the time he was born into this life, his merit was already complete, and he was ready to practice the way of the Valley Spirit, so it took effect quickly. My accumulated merit was still insufficient. It was only natural that, even practicing this method, I saw no result for a long time.”

Those who practice must first completely let go of worldly affairs and widely cultivate all kinds of good deeds, so that nothing weighs on the heart and they can focus on reaching emptiness and stillness. They must continue until they enter profound stillness, where even the thought of “stillness” has disappeared. When merit and practice are both complete, blessings will arrive. With blessings comes an opening of the mind; a point of light enters it, and that is the source of Heaven and Earth. Yin and Yang Qi naturally unite as one. Only then should one nurture them through continuous, unbroken practice, allowing them to grow full; in this way, one can remain forever undying.

The Three Essentials of Nurturing Life says that nurturing life has three key elements: to build up Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), one must nurture Qi; to nurture Qi, one must preserve Shen (spirit). Shen and Qi are related like mother and child. The book records a method for refining Jing: at midnight, during the Zi hour (roughly eleven at night to one in the morning), get dressed, rise, and sit upright. Rub both hands together until they are warm. Use one hand to support and protect the external kidneys (the external genitals) and the other to cover the navel, while focusing the mind on the internal kidneys (a traditional health-cultivation term for an area inside the body associated with the kidneys). Practiced over a long period, this is said to strengthen Jing and Qi.

When the mind is settled and concentrated, Qi gathers; when the mind is scattered, Qi is depleted. To know how to cherish Jing and Qi but not how to preserve and nurture Shen is like eating only the flowers and forgetting the roots.

The book also says that “stopping and observing,” a Buddhist meditation method for quieting stray thoughts and observing the mind, is an important key to preserving Shen. The first method is called “stopping by tying the mind to an object”: fasten the mind to a particular place or object. The second is “stopping by controlling the mind”: no longer keep the mind fixed in one place; simply notice when thoughts arise and then let them subside. The saying “Do not fear thoughts arising; fear only being slow to notice them” means that thoughts arising is nothing to fear; what matters is noticing them promptly. The third method is “stopping by realizing the true”: though worldly circumstances change in many ways, the true mind remains unmoved. In favorable or adverse circumstances alike, the mind does not move recklessly with them. This is to recognize what is true and abide in it.

The Yangsheng Fuyu says: When a person has only just died, the ears, eyes, mouth, nose, hands, feet, and body are all still intact, yet their parents, siblings, and spouse no longer cherish them. This is because their spirit has departed. We can see that what people truly cherish is the spirit, not the body. Why, then, when caring for themselves, do people now attend only to the body and neglect the spirit?

When people write, take care of affairs, crave beautiful sounds, or become absorbed in beauty, their spirit is depleted outwardly. All the activities of daily life and the use of the mind make the spirit rush outward as well. Yet people do not feel this is a loss. Only when their vital energy is exhausted do they grieve deeply. Is that not realizing it far too late?

Whenever people concentrate their thoughts or form an intention, the spirit scatters accordingly. This is like dividing a flame into many parts: the more it is divided, the faster the lamp oil is used up, and the smaller the flame becomes. The more the spirit scatters, the more Jing and Qi are depleted, and the weaker the spirit grows. Only when their vital energy is exhausted do people grieve deeply. Is that not realizing it far too late?

The ancient immortals said, “Once the spirit goes out, you must gather it back. When the spirit returns to the body, Qi will naturally return as well.” If one can do this day and night, even the old can naturally return to a youthful state. This truly accords with the principle by which Heaven and Earth give life without end.

It is also said: When Lu Yuanhe spoke of the essentials of nourishing life, he said that one need only keep the spirit hidden deep within, so it does not wander outward and scatter. In time, wondrous changes will naturally occur. There is no need to say more.

In a recent teaching, Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng said that cultivating the Great Dao begins with the “Center.” The Center may be within the body or beyond it, so the practice has two stages.

First, seek the Center within the body. Zhu Xi said, “Guard the Center to regulate what lies outside.” To guard the Center is to turn the light around and reflect inward, gather the mind, and settle attention at the “Central Point”—the central place referred to in cultivation—one inch and three tenths below the navel. Do not deliberately fix attention on it, but do not let attention leave it entirely. This is seeking the Center within the body.

Second, experience the Center beyond the body. In the Doctrine of the Mean, “before joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure have arisen” refers to a state in which emotions have not yet stirred. At this time, one is not drawn by the sights and sounds of the outside world, and remains watchful and self-possessed when alone. The temperament then settles, and the spirit becomes clear. Only at this stage can one’s original face appear. This is seeking the Center beyond the body. Begin with the Center within the body, then experience the Center beyond it: human desires can more readily be purified, and Heaven’s principle can again become clear. Sages, immortals, and Buddhas throughout the ages have all treated this as the first step on the path.

Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng also said, “Gather the spirit and regulate the breath; regulate the breath and gather the spirit.” These eight words describe how to begin cultivation. Continue the practice steadily, advancing step by step without interruption. To gather the spirit is to draw inward a mind that has already become settled and clear. When the mind is not yet quiet, do not rush to close the eyes. First encourage yourself to bring the mind back; once it has become cool, calm, and untroubled, draw the mind and spirit toward the “Qi Cavity,” the place in internal cultivation where one visualizes and gathers the spirit. This is what is meant by gathering the spirit. Once the spirit is gathered and settled, it is as though you are seated on a high mountain, looking down over ranges of mountains and rivers, or as though you have lit a heavenly lamp that reveals the deepest darkness. This is what is called “gathering the spirit in emptiness.”

It is also said: Settle the heart in a place of deep stillness, and the spirit will not wander outward. When the heart is stirred by affairs, inner fire rises and disturbs Jing and Qi. As the heart grows quiet, the breath naturally becomes even; with lasting stillness, the heart too becomes settled. Set aside distracting thoughts to nurture the breath, and regulate the breath with fine attention so the heart can become focused.

Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) are the body’s “Three Treasures”; the ears, eyes, and mouth are its external “Three Treasures.” Keep the inner Jing, Qi, and Shen from scattering in response to external things, and do not let the outer ears, eyes, and mouth disturb the heart and spirit from within. Let the breath be long and subtle, reaching deep into the Dantian (the place in the abdomen where breath is said to gather in traditional Neidan practice). Let the breaths join and respond to one another like husband and wife, and let Shen and Qi depend on one another like mother and child. When they gather and do not scatter, the heart no longer races outward, thoughts no longer wander, the spirit no longer roams, and Jing and Qi do not stir recklessly. The breath then gently nourishes the whole body and its limbs. This is the orthodox method of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, a traditional expression for Daoist Neidan practice.

It is also said: The key to gathering the spirit and regulating the breath is to keep the heart calm and the Qi harmonious. The two words “calm heart” are especially subtle: when no ripples arise within the heart, it is calm; when the heart rests in the center, it too is calm. When the heart stays in the center without rippling, this is what the alchemical scriptures call the “one aperture of the Mysterious Pass,” the crucial point in Neidan practice.

If one does not understand the Mysterious Pass—the crucial point in Neidan cultivation where Shen and Qi converge—there is no point discussing other methods. It is like entering a dark room without knowing where to begin. The Mysterious Pass is the Qi cavity, the place where true Qi gathers and circulates. When the intent of Shen enters Qi, it is as though it were dwelling in a deep cavern. Shen and Qi cling to one another, and the form of the Mysterious Pass is established.

The Perfected One Wu Chongxu said that the Ancient Scripture on Embryonic Breathing teaches: “The embryo forms from hidden Qi; Qi rests within the formed embryo.” This is an essential method of cultivation for the immortals of past and future, including the Celestial Immortals. I would like to explain it further in detail.

At birth, a person has only two forms of primordial Qi joined as one, existing in a state of empty-space Qi. At that time there is neither an embryo nor breathing. Later, through the mother’s breathing, the fetus gradually grows; breathing begins only after the fetus has formed. When its development is complete, the mystery is that it breathes along with its mother. Thus, though it breathes all day, it does not feel suffocated. This is because the fetus does not breathe through the mouth and nose, but is connected to the mother through the navel. It therefore seems not to breathe at all. This is the true state of embryonic breathing.

After leaving the womb, the breathing connection through the navel is severed, and a person can breathe only through the mouth and nose. The pattern of breathing is much like that in the womb; only the passage through which it flows is temporarily different. In reversing one’s cultivation and returning to the source, how could one fail to restore the breathing of the mouth and nose to the breathing of the womb? In cultivating the return of the breath, one must guide the breath through the mouth and nose back to the place of embryonic breathing, as though returning to the breathing state of the womb. Gradually, one cultivates until embryonic breathing itself truly returns to nothingness. “True nothingness” means that breathing ceases and the breath is completely extinguished. Only then has one returned to the state before birth, before there was either an embryo or breathing, and so escaped the path of birth and death.

Yet the breath is exceedingly difficult to control. It must rely on primordial Qi—the innate, original Qi—in order to settle and form embryonic breathing. This is also what is meant by the saying, “A solitary Yin cannot bring forth.” The practitioner must wait until the innate Qi mechanism stirs, while the primordial spirit remains alone in awareness, and must let primordial Qi and the breath support one another. When the Three Treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen converge, one first refines the Great Medicine, then returns it to the Yellow Court, the place where the Golden Elixir forms in Neidan cultivation, as the site where the embryo is conceived.

At this point, one uses embryonic breathing to nourish the embryo spirit, allowing Shen and Qi to settle within the body, carried by the breath of the embryo. This is the beginning of conception. At first, it is as though there were an extremely faint breath at the navel chakra, yet also as though it were not at the navel chakra, but in empty space. Gradually, one reaches breathlessness and the embryo forms, while the Qi mechanism continues subtly and without interruption. This continues until one attains the Great Stillness of the Yang Spirit—the deep stillness achieved when the Yang Spirit is perfected—with no changes of movement or stillness, arising or ceasing. This is the completion of the embryo. When one reaches the samadhi of complete cessation, the Yang Spirit is perfected.

Wu Yuanzi says: When the body no longer clings to the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—it becomes pure. This is called “body purification.” When all thoughts and worries come to rest and the mind becomes pure, this is called “mind purification.” When the gaze is gathered inward and turned back to observe the heart, this is called “eye purification.” When external sounds are not allowed to disturb the ear, this is called “ear purification.” When one is not drawn in by pleasant or foul smells, this is called “nose purification.” When words of right and wrong do not stir the mind, this is called “tongue purification.” Sweeping away every attachment and leaving all forms of fixation behind, one lets the mind abide nowhere while allowing awareness to arise. This is called “purification of the heart.”

The Perfected Min says: When cultivation reaches this state, the substance of the Dao is fully revealed. If, through this, one realizes the Great Dao and goes on to cling neither to being nor nonbeing, letting go of both the self and external principles, one enters a boundless realm. The activity of body and mind then accords with the natural workings of creation. Afterward, one must continue “dispersed purification” for forty-nine days, maintaining this state. When the right moment comes, acting in accord with the opportunity, one can personally verify the Way of Nature and attain the “Six Perceptions”—the six kinds of extraordinary perception described in Daoism. How, then, could one’s innate nature remain clouded, or the inner “embryo” fail to coalesce fully? In this way, one may hope to transcend in an instant and reach the highest wisdom and virtue; once realized, everything becomes clear and connected. Even if obstacles arise along the way, the “one aperture of the Mysterious Pass”—the crucial opening in cultivation where body and mind meet the Dao—will surely open wide and remain open. In the stages of cultivation, including gathering the medicine, forming the Elixir, nurturing it with warmth, and releasing it, the essential point is always to let the mind abide nowhere and not become attached to awareness.

The Guide to the Central Alignment discusses the “medicinal substances” and says: In general, the Mysterious Female, a term in Daoist Neidan for the source from which Yin-Yang comes forth, is the origin of Yin-Yang and the place where Shen and Qi take root. Shen and Qi, in turn, are the medicines for cultivating nature and life, and the foundation of embryonic breathing.

In discussing “medicines,” the Guidelines to the Center says that, broadly speaking, the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin)—the source from which Yin-Yang transforms and gives birth, and the place where Shen and Qi are understood to dwell in cultivation—is the origin of Yin-Yang and the abode of Shen and Qi. Shen and Qi are the “medicines” for cultivating nature and life, as well as the root of fetal breathing and the source of breath.

To establish roots that are deep and firm, the “fetus” is the place where Shen is stored and nourished; “breath” is the basis from which the fetus comes into being. The fetus is born from breath, and breath finds stability through the fetus: without breath, the fetus cannot take shape; without Shen, breath has no master.

It also says that when immortals teach people to refine Jing, their aim is to return to the root and restore the beginning: to nourish the Five Viscera anew and reshape the body, so that what is formless gives rise to substance and condenses into the “sacred fetus,” the inner achievement formed through cultivation. The secret of cultivation is to hold Qi with single-minded focus and soften the heart and mind. Can one be like an infant? Remove distracting thoughts, quiet the mind, and maintain undivided attention. Let no thoughts from outside enter, and let no thoughts within the heart rush outward in all directions. Remain all day in an undifferentiated state, as though inside the womb.

When Shen settles, it meets Qi; when Qi is calm (some versions say “at rest”), it joins with Shen. Shen condenses through Qi, and Qi finds stability through Shen. In stillness and repose, one seems to be in a state where there is neither thing nor self. The mind rests quietly on one point, like a hen brooding over eggs or a fish in water. The exhalation seems to reach the root, and the inhalation seems to reach the base. The breath continues without interruption, faintly present and almost imperceptible: this is holding to the single breath within the womb.

When one cultivates until no fixed place remains to cling to, the true breath will settle naturally and gradually become so subtle that it seems not to exist. Though this is called using the mind to guard the mind, there is no fixed thought to guard. In profound stillness, one senses only a point of spiritual awareness within the vast, empty expanse of the Great Void, directing the transformations of creation. Hold to this single breath of fetal breathing; when the time is ripe, the subtle principle will reveal itself naturally. Let it move gently and set things in motion silently. With the faintest intention, settle the breath and follow the pivot of transformation. Then Metal and Wood blend of their own accord, and Water and Fire rise and descend naturally. Suddenly, a point of light appears, as small as a millet pearl, and falls into the Yellow Court (Huangting), the inner site of cultivation in Neidan. This is the moment for gathering lead and casting it into mercury, and it is also how the Golden Elixir is formed in a single day.

The Treatise on Returning to Destiny says: “At night, the chaotic Qi seems to fall down; the myriad forms appear in profusion, and one is entirely unaware.” At this time, all the functions within the body merge into one and are indistinguishable from emptiness. One no longer knows that Shen is Qi or that Qi is Shen. This transformation does not come from deliberate visualization; it is the natural course of the Dao. I cannot explain why it is so, yet this is how it happens.

Once the medicine has formed, the firing process follows. When the medicine first arises, on a small scale it can be compared to the transformations of Kan and Li, symbols of Water and Fire and of Yin-Yang; on a larger scale, it accords with the workings of Qian and Kun, symbols of Heaven and Earth. The essential principles of the Golden Elixir have now been fully stated; nothing is concealed. How could this be compared with minor methods of the side paths? If you do not believe this account, abandon the Mysterious Female and set up another foundation, or leave Shen and Qi behind to seek the medicine. If you do not understand natural fetal breathing yet recklessly apply the firing process, you will abandon the root and chase after the branches, pursue illusion, and lose what is real. This will shorten your life, and there is nothing I can do about it.

Now let us consider this section by Perfected Chen. Although it focuses mainly on Jade Fluid, a relatively basic form of refined essence and energy in Neidan practice, it also touches briefly on Golden Fluid, a more refined form. The two differ in degree, but the principle behind them is the same: both arise through the union of Yin and Yang. Whether it is a lesser Elixir, a greater Elixir, or the Mysterious Pearl—different stages or essences of Neidan practice—none can form without such a union. Perfected Yin said, “Nothing can bring about transformation without passing through union.” This is precisely the point.

When Qi enters the body, a person is born; when Shen leaves the body, a person dies.

Every living thing possesses Qi, and life itself resides in Qi. The capacity of living things to perceive and move comes from the movement of Qi.

When Qi enters the body, a person is born; when Shen leaves the body, a person dies.

Every living thing possesses Qi, and life itself resides in Qi. The capacity of living things to perceive and move comes from the movement of Qi. Without Qi, there can be no activity; a thing is merely lifeless. All living beings contain spiritual awareness. This awareness is Shen, and a person’s inborn nature is also held within Shen. Without Shen to govern it, a person would be like wood or stone. How would that differ from death? We can see, then, that life depends on Qi and Shen. They are received from Heaven and nurtured through the transformations of Heaven and Earth. The Scripture of the Hidden Talisman (Yinfu Jing) speaks of “Heaven and Earth stealing from the myriad things,” while an ancient philosopher said, “Heaven gives it, and Heaven takes it back.” Both refer to this principle: when Qi is lost and exhausted, a person dies.

Knowing that Shen and Qi can enable one to live long, one should hold fast to emptiness and thereby nurture Shen and Qi.

This is the most important key in this scripture. “Emptiness” means bringing the mind to a state of quiet stillness; this is the way to establish the Mysterious Female, an image in Daoist cultivation for the source from which things are conceived and transformed. “Empty” means not letting the mind be filled with distracting thoughts; “void” means not becoming attached to the physical form. By quieting the mind and holding fast to emptiness, one can nurture Shen and Qi.

This is the most important secret of this classic. “Emptiness” means bringing the mind to a state of stillness and quiet, and thereby establishing the “Mysterious Female” (a Daoist term for the wondrous gateway that is the source of generation and transformation and the basis of cultivation). “Empty” means not allowing distracting thoughts to occupy the mind; “nothing” means not letting attachment to the body become a burden. When the mind is empty, Shen (spirit) naturally becomes clear; when the body is free of attachment, Qi (vital energy) naturally becomes calm. With clear Shen and calm Qi, one can cultivate oneself.

This practice, however, cannot be mastered all at once. One must attend to it morning and night, remaining consistent in activity and stillness alike, before making progress. This is why it is called “steadfast guarding”: one must not depart from it for even a moment or grow even slightly lax.

The practice of steadfastly guarding emptiness and nothingness is also the secret that adepts call the union of Yin and Yang and the appropriation of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformations. Without understanding this secret, one cannot return to the source, as Daoists put it; without attaining this state, there is no basis for speaking of return. The following passages therefore explain it further.

Laozi said, “Bring the mind to utmost emptiness, and steadfastly preserve stillness.”

The Treatise on the Genuine Qi of High Antiquity in the Yellow Emperor’s Inner Classic says, “When the mind is tranquil, calm, and empty, genuine Qi flows freely. When the spirit is gathered within, how can illness arise?”

Perfected Danyang says in his recorded sayings, “The Dao takes a mind free of intent as its root, forgetting words as its function, gentleness and weakness as its essential qualities, and purity and stillness as its foundation. To put the Dao into practice in the human body, one should regulate one’s food, put an end to anxious thoughts, sit quietly and regulate the breath, and sleep peacefully to nourish Qi (the life energy spoken of in Daoism). When the mind and Shen do not wander outward, one’s nature becomes settled; when the body is not overworked, Jing (essence) and Qi can grow; when the spirit is undisturbed, Neidan (internal alchemy) can coalesce. Then, in emptiness and stillness, one dispels desires and brings the spirit to perfect peace. In this way, one can grasp the wondrous Dao without leaving the doorway.”

Another explanation is that “clarity and purity” means that clarity clears the source of the mind’s thoughts, while purity cleanses the Qi Sea, the place where Qi gathers according to Daoism. When the mind’s source is clear and bright, external things cannot disturb it. Emotions therefore settle, and Shen—the spirit and faculty of awareness—can manifest. When the Qi Sea is pure, misguided thoughts and desires cannot intrude; Jing and Qi are thus preserved, and the abdomen becomes full. For this reason, one should clear the mind as one would clarify water, and nurture the original Qi as one would care for an infant. When the original Qi is abundant, Shen becomes subtle and responsive; as Shen becomes subtle and responsive, the original Qi also changes in turn. These are all results of cultivating clarity and purity. If, in practice, one deliberately pursues results and exerts oneself, one is merely performing limited techniques. If one follows the principle of mindlessness and Wuwei (non-action), one can reach the boundless realm of emptiness and clarity.

Another explanation is that Wuwei means not engaging in deliberate thought. Devote yourself to quieting the mind and purifying intention, nurturing the original Qi and preserving the spirit. Roam freely in a state of ease and enter the “Land of Nothingness,” the Daoist realm without attachments or limitations.

It is also said that Liu Gaoshang lived in a small dwelling for forty years and did nothing else but quiet and empty his mind, fill his abdomen with original Qi, cast aside worldly display, forget fame, let go of profit, and nourish his spirit while preserving his original Qi. In this way, the Neidan naturally congeals and the immortal Dao is naturally achieved. Someone praised him for this, saying, “Close the openings of the senses; shut the gates of the mind.” I once read these words; now that I have seen a person who embodies them, I can say they are concise and practical.

It is also said that by preserving the original Qi, the Neidan naturally congeals and the immortal Dao is naturally achieved. Someone praised this, saying, “Close the openings of the senses; shut the gates of the mind.” I once read these words; now that I have seen a person who embodies them, I can say they are concise and practical.

It is also said that those who study the Dao must never let their minds stray from it, whether walking, standing, sitting upright, or lying down. When walking, set your feet on a level, steady path. When standing, let your intentions settle in the Great Void, the vast and empty realm. When sitting, regulate the breath at the tip of the nose. When sleeping, keep your attention on the Neidan area below the navel. Continue regulating the breath for a long time without interruption, and throughout the day appear simple and unknowing. This is proper cultivation; it is not deliberate contrivance or forced practice.

He then said to everyone, “The Dao has neither form nor name. It is the source of Shen and Qi, the subtle energy that sustains life. Primordial Qi, the original vital energy, gives rise to the myriad things, and spirits arise naturally from it as well. Refining and cultivating the original Shen until it accords with the Dao: this is the cultivation of the Real. The many other terms are varied and confusing, and are difficult to rely on as sound guides.

“The essentials of cultivation cannot be separated from Shen and Qi. Shen and Qi are nature and life; nature and life are the dragon and tiger; the dragon and tiger are lead and mercury; lead and mercury are water and fire; water and fire are the infant and maiden, terms that symbolize the union of Yin and Yang; the infant and maiden are true Yin and true Yang; and true Yin and true Yang are also Shen and Qi. One should not cling to these different names. In the end, there are only the two words Shen and Qi. To nourish Qi and preserve Shen, one must set aside all concerns, bring inner and outer life to clarity, and devote oneself steadily to cultivation, allowing Shen to gather and the flow of Qi to become unobstructed.

“After three years of cultivation without loss of Jing and Qi, the Lower Dantian has congealed. After six years without loss, one has attained the method of the Middle Dantian; after nine years, that of the Upper Dantian. This is called the perfection of the Three Dantians and the completion of the Nine Transformations. At that point, the marrow is refined and transformed, the blood vessels become the Real Body, and inner fullness shines outward in clear radiance. The mind and spirit are still and unmoving, yet respond to whatever they encounter and transform without limit. One may pass away seated or standing; the thirty-six thousand spirits will joyfully follow, roaming throughout the world, while the Three Realms welcome one together. Even amid the Eight Calamities, through a thousand dangers and ten thousand poisons, nothing can bring one to destruction.

“Even when a great tribulation comes, and vast, fierce flames surge in every direction, Shen fills the Great Void and remains unhindered. Heaven may collapse, earth may sink, mountains may crumble, and seas may dry up: in the end, all things with form will perish. Only those who cultivate the Dao and attain the union of Shen and Dao can endure through eternal ages without decay; moreover, their merit can raise their nine ancestral generations to Shangqing, one of the higher celestial realms in Daoism.”

The master said to his disciples again, “How many shichen are there in a day?” The disciples replied, “There are six shichen in a day.” The master asked, “How many shichen are there in the day and night combined?” They replied, “There are twelve shichen in all.” The master said, “Throughout these twelve shichen, does the Dao of Heaven—the order by which Heaven and Earth operate—not move without ceasing, driving the transformation of all things? Does it ever pause, even for a moment?” The disciples replied, “It never pauses.”

The master said, “Those who cultivate the Dao should take the Dao of Heaven as their model and keep the transformations within themselves in continuous motion. Throughout all twelve shichen, maintain a clear and tranquil state of mind, allowing not the slightest stray thought to arise. Only then can you be said to be cultivating. Accumulate your effort day by day and make progress month by month, without interruption, and in time you will attain the immortal Dao. If your effort is sometimes lacking and you cannot persevere in your conduct, how could you ever succeed in cultivation?

“I see that among you, not one devotes even a single shichen out of the twelve to cultivating the Dao. Since you have accepted offerings from patrons in all directions, how can you fail to cultivate diligently in return? Once you die, you will fall back into the cycle of rebirth, with no way of knowing when you will be liberated. I now solemnly admonish you: clear and purify your inner mind, cast aside desire, and do not let the affairs of the world disturb you. Harmonize your spirit and breath, and this is the Dao. Cultivate in this way, and you will not go astray. If you procrastinate, grow lax, and fail to persevere in your practice, the fault will not be mine.

“Should you not think of your seven generations of ancestors? In life, they committed many kinds of sins; now they suffer in the netherworld, hoping that their descendants will attain the fruits of the Dao and rescue them from their anguish so that they may ascend to Heaven. You should all keep this in mind, establish firm resolve, and uphold the Great Dao until death. This is what I hope of you. Take care!”

The Guide to the Centrality discusses the timing of the fire in Neidan cultivation. The Perfected Yu Chan holds that fire originally belongs to the southern Li trigram and corresponds to the human heart. The heart is Shen (spirit), and Shen is fire. Qi (vital energy; in internal cultivation, primordial Qi) is the medicine. Refining the medicine with fire until it forms an elixir means using Shen to govern Qi, ultimately cultivating the Great Dao. This explanation is clear and direct. If you assume you have no affinity with the immortals and dismiss it as empty talk, you will miss the essential point right before your eyes. That is truly regrettable.

Yet the key to the instructions on the fire’s timing must especially be experienced through the True Breath—the fine, natural breath. Breathing arises from the heart: when the heart is still, the breath becomes calm. Let heart and breath return together to their source, and this becomes the foundation of the Golden Elixir. The Scripture of the Heart Seal says, “Reversing the wind and merging it together, the work becomes efficacious in a hundred days.” This is what it means.

In cultivation, use Shen to govern Qi, then use Qi to regulate the breath, allowing it to open and close naturally like a bellows. Let Yin and Yang rise and descend, and the breath enter and leave, in accordance with their own nature. Gather Qi with undivided attention, making the heart and spirit gentle and settled; contain spiritual clarity within, and quietly maintain stillness. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, keep the cultivation continuous, as though present and yet absent, like a woman carrying a child or a young dragon nurturing a precious pearl. Through gradual gathering and refinement, continue until the work is mature and body and mind form an undivided whole.

Between movement and stillness, adjust the measure at every moment. Do not let thoughts arise recklessly, for when a thought moves, the fire may grow too strong. Do not let the mind become scattered, for then the fire may cool. As long as you avoid excess and deficiency, and regulate gathering and release in due measure, Shen and Qi will embrace one another, the mind will be calm, and body and mind will return to a single undifferentiated whole. Then the fire will keep burning and the elixir cauldron remain warm, without a moment’s interruption or the slightest deviation.

Each moment of cultivation is one moment of the Celestial Circuit. Cultivating for an hour or a day completes the Celestial Circuit for that hour or day. After a hundred days of refinement, this is called “establishing the foundation”: laying the groundwork for cultivation. After ten months, it is called the “immortal embryo,” meaning that the Neidan practice is gradually taking shape. From then on, whether primordial Yang Qi stirs in the Sea of Origin, True Fire rises from the water, or Heaven and Earth cycle and Qian and Kun turn again, all depend on the transformations brought about by this one breath. As for the arrangements of bathing and nurturing, advancing and retreating, drawing out and adding to the fire, these naturally accord with the secrets of Heaven and follow the transformations of nature; they are not forced into action by human will alone.

Thus it is said: “Though the fire has its pattern, there is no need to control it deliberately. I can understand its subtle gateways for myself. Simply settle Shen and breath, and let them follow their natural course.” This is the practical instruction of the former master. By day and night, follow nature in accordance with the methods of Tun and Meng; why strain to keep watch over the fire? This is the teacher’s definitive judgment. Here the meaning of the sages’ saying, “Transmit the medicine, but do not transmit the fire,” has been fully explained.

The Secret Essentials of Cultivating Reality says: When practitioners first lay the foundation, they must make the mind as still as standing water, without a ripple, and as empty as the Great Void, vast and boundless, without a wisp of cloud. They enter a state of quiet stability, free from restless movement. Then, at the Mysterious Pass, the key point where mind, body, and Qi converge and transform in Neidan (internal alchemy), they follow the methods of cultivation from before their parents conceived them. They preserve and settle the true breath and true Qi, so that Qi and breathing remain joined and become one. The inner Qi does not disperse outward, and outside Qi does not enter. It moves up and down only within this single aperture, continuing without end, seeming present and yet absent.

Practitioners should experience themselves as though they were still in the womb, not yet born: a single, abundant current of primordial ancestral Qi, the innate energy regarded as the root of life, warm as spring and peaceful as if in a gentle intoxication. The inner sense of well-being appears on the face, fills the back, and spreads throughout the limbs. Though the limbs do not speak, they can feel. Look for it and there is no image; seek it and there is no form. It is always within the Mysterious Pass. At this stage, the nascent life force returns to the cauldron, a metaphor for the inner place where body and mind are refined and nourished, and the practitioner can begin to apply the firing process, the method for regulating the course of Neidan cultivation.

Through this practice, the wondrous workings of the original spirit appear naturally, and the true mind operates of itself, circulating Qi within the Primordial Pass, the aperture through which Qi moves in cultivation. As the work gradually refines and gathers it, true Jing (essence) grows ever fuller. With deep practice, what is small becomes large and what is subtle becomes manifest: the primordial pearl, the Qi and essence that take shape in Neidan cultivation, gradually emerges and forms the sacred embryo, the inner achievement of cultivation. All of this happens naturally, yet no one can explain how. It is as though the mysterious workings arise on their own, and no one can explain their mystery.

Practitioners again become as if they were in the womb, gathering through the breath the harmonious, balanced, and empty stillness of the Great Harmony Qi, and nurturing a body that will endure without decay. When the embryonic body is complete, it is like an infant born after ten months of gestation, recalling the state of being unborn and still within the mother’s womb. Thereafter, it must be diligently warmed and nourished. Qi is brought to unity and softened, and attention remains steadily with this practice. Whether moving or still, speaking or silent, even in haste, practitioners must not let go of this warming and nourishing. Once it is sufficient, body and mind seem empty and unobstructed. The practitioner then breaks through ignorance and undifferentiated chaos, reveals the original face, and reaches a state in which there is a body beyond the body, freedom to move in every direction, and transformations without limit.

According to the “Essential Instructions on the Mysterious Pivot,” sit upright with your legs crossed, draw back your gaze and still your hearing, and let your mind follow the natural rise and fall of the breath. Neither restrain it deliberately nor allow it to scatter. Maintain this unbroken, gentle practice, and you will accord with the Way of nature; transformation then has no fixed limit.

The Golden Elixir practice—that is, Daoist internal alchemy (Neidan)—is broadly the same from beginning to end. Applying too much effort or pursuing results deliberately can lead to mistakes. Laozi says, “Continuous, as if it were there; use it without strain.” The breath and mind should continue as though present and yet almost absent; there is no need to force them. You need not adhere to a particular time to begin practicing. Simply quiet yourself, gather your spirit, and abide in stillness.

When the spirit and mind scatter, this belongs to Yin; gathering the spirit and mind allows them to return to emptiness and stillness. If, in forgetfulness, you simply let them scatter, this becomes the Yin spirit—a state of consciousness inclined toward Yin. If, in forgetfulness, you still maintain an inner focus, this becomes the Yang spirit—a state of consciousness inclined toward Yang. Set aside the workings of both inner and outer realms, while keeping present the intention to nourish body and mind. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, remain gentle and supple.

Scattering and emptying the mind leads to dull emptiness, a vacant and drowsy state; abiding in stillness is true emptiness, clear and quiet without dullness. As stillness and concentration settle, Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) can gather together. Forget the body, but do not forget to keep the mind inwardly anchored; forget clever schemes and discursive thoughts, but do not forget to practice. Only by focusing on and abiding in emptiness can something arise from nothing. The key to sustained practice is for the mind to remain unmoved.

Practice in quietude and Wuwei (non-action), while continuing to observe yourself. If a thought arises, address it promptly; as soon as it begins, respond with either a “civil” or a “martial” method. Here, “civil” and “martial” refer to different methods of regulating the practice. You must hold steadily to the practice without interruption.

Zhang Sanfeng said that the first step in refining the elixir is to quiet emotions and attachments and clear away distracting thoughts. This is the work of laying the foundation and refining oneself. When selfish thoughts and desires are removed, one’s clear original nature can be restored; when personal desires are purified, the natural order can endure.

Begin each day by sitting quietly for a while. Once body and mind have settled and the breath has grown even, gently lower the eyelids and turn your attention inward, as though gazing down through them. Notice a point about one inch and three tenths below the heart and above the kidneys. Do not deliberately pursue anything, but do not let the mind wander entirely freely either. Keep the inward attention in mind without forcing or cultivating anything. As distracting thoughts gradually fade, only clear awareness remains. This is called “right mindfulness.”

At this point, keep right mindfulness lively and natural, and let the breath grow gentle and long. As you exhale, allow the breath to rise naturally, but do not let it rush toward the chest. As you inhale, allow it to descend naturally, but do not let it plunge straight to the kidneys. Practice this cycle of exhaling and inhaling, opening and closing, for seven or fourteen days. Gradually, you will feel warmth between the kidneys and warmth in the Dantian (energy center). After that, there is no need to regulate the breath deliberately; it will become even on its own. Nor is there any need to refine Qi (vital energy) deliberately; it will circulate of itself.

Once the breath is harmonized, you may feel that it no longer noticeably comes and goes in the upper, middle, or lower parts of the body. This is called “embryonic breathing” or “spirit breathing.” It is the true practice of treating the body and mind as a cauldron and bellows. It is also called “returning to the root and restoring life,” and “the gate of the Mysterious Female, the root of Heaven and Earth.” Here, “embryonic breathing” is a term from Neidan (internal alchemy): it means that breathing becomes increasingly subtle and the body and mind settle into stillness, not that breathing literally stops.

When the movement of Qi reaches this stage, it is like a flower just forming a bud or an embryo just beginning to develop. True Qi naturally warms and nourishes the channels throughout the body. It passes from the tailbone area at the base of the spine through the spinal region of the back, rises to the Niwan at the head, then descends through the Magpie Bridge where the tongue meets the upper palate. It passes through the throat, reaches the area of the chest known as the Crimson Palace, and finally settles in the middle Dantian. This is called “the River Cart first stirring,” the initial appearance of Qi circulating along the channels as described in internal alchemy. At this stage, however, Qi has only arrived; the mind and spirit have not yet become full. It is therefore not a true activation. Do not try to manipulate it. Simply gather the spirit gently in inward awareness and keep it in the central palace, where the life force will naturally continue to grow. This is what is called “nourishing the Yin’e,” cultivating the foundation from which the Neidan first develops.

Practice in this way for one or two months, and the mind and spirit will grow more tranquil. As stillness deepens, the movement of Qi will continue to arise. This is the practice in which “spirit gives rise to Qi, and Qi gives rise to spirit.” After a hundred days or a little more, this foundation will have been nourished.

After practicing the method for one or two months, the mind and spirit become quieter. As the periods of stillness grow longer, Qi gradually becomes more abundant. This is the effect described as “Shen gives rise to Qi, and Qi gives rise to Shen.” After a hundred days or a little more, the spirit gradually grows vigorous, and true Qi slowly becomes full. The firing process—the adjustment of timing and degree during cultivation—is gentle and sustained. With Qi and blood abundant, Kan and Li (symbols of water and fire, Yin and Yang) naturally join, and Qian and Kun (symbols of Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang) come together. At this point, Shen and Qi blend and move freely. True Qi briefly gathers as one, like a returning wind surging upward through the hundred channels. This is called “the true movement of the River Chariot,” a scene of inner Qi in motion. If a point of numinous light appears within and is felt in the Dantian, the inner cultivation site below the navel, it is called the “mysterious pearl beneath the water” or the “yellow sprout within the earth.” Both are metaphors in Neidan cultivation.

At this time, the return of the first Yang—the birth of Yang Qi—seems like the red sun rising from the vast sea and lighting its surface. The scene is like mist or smoke, partly hidden and partly visible; this is called “the birth of the lead fire.” Before Qian and Kun, or Kan and Li, have joined, remain in a state of emptiness, stillness, and quiet. Gather Shen within and continue the practice without interruption, until body and mind congeal as one. This is called “the coordination of the Five Phases.” Once water and fire join, gather and refine in two stages. As the River Chariot turns in reverse and the scene appears partly hidden and partly visible, this is again called “the birth of the lead fire.” After four stages, the elixir is obtained—that is, the Jing and Qi described in inner cultivation. Shen rests within, and the radiance of the elixir does not depart. This is called the “Greater Celestial Circuit,” also known as “practicing the nine revolutions of the great return.” At this point, a trace of utmost Yang essence congeals within, concealed when desire has been completely cleansed and emotions are settled, and gradually takes shape. At this stage, breathing seems to stop and return to embryonic breathing. One must nurture it gently, both within and without, without the slightest lapse. This is also called the “ten-month practice.”

Shang’s note says: Although this passage is included in the Collected Works of Zhang Sanfeng, it cannot be established that Zhang Sanfeng wrote it. It describes the entry into stillness practice and is reasonably clear in its organization, so it has been included.

The Secret Teachings of the Three Vehicles by the Perfected One Hanxu says that cultivation begins by quieting the mind, then closing the mouth, and then regulating the breath. When the mind settles, the breath becomes calm. The best regulation is “regulation without regulating”: rather than deliberately controlling the breath, allow it to become naturally steady. Once the breath through the nose is calm, close the eyes and turn inward, focusing the mind and spirit on the channel called “Yinjiao” below the root of the kidneys. It lies behind the scrotum and in front of the anus, and extends upward to the Sea of Qi. Remain there for a short while, then guide the mind, spirit, and breath into the “Cavity of Emptiness” (roughly behind the navel, in front of the lower back, in the area between the heart and kidneys; do not fixate on an exact location).

Settle the mind and let the breath flow naturally. If the mind is too tense, the Qi may become overheated; let it be natural—this is the “gentle fire,” which nourishes and warms. If the mind is too scattered, the Qi may become too cold; hold to what is natural—this is the “forceful fire,” which refines more vigorously. The gentle fire is used for warming nourishment, the forceful fire for cooking and refining. Throughout, keep the breath even: do not deliberately intensify it, and do not lose awareness of it.

At this point, the mind is like the Great Void, yet the breath accompanies it, so it is not mere nothingness. The mind is like open space, and the breath follows it, so it is not empty in the sense of absence. Between being and not being, emptiness and fullness, continue to become still and clear. Let everything go, and release all attachment with your whole being. The mind and spirit grow silent, the breath becomes long and continuous, and together they enter a state of profound stillness. This is called “plumbing the depths of obscurity.” Within this profound stillness, the breath remains, and only the mind and spirit stay lucidly aware: this is the true breath.

When true Qi appears, the heart may feel tingling and itching, as if the apertures are opening. Still, remain steady and gather yourself inward at the Cavity of Emptiness, accumulating and nourishing. In this way, the “root of life” begins to grow, and Yang Qi gradually increases. Only then can you open the pass and circulate the energy.

Perfected One Min said: The practice of contemplating return—that is, observing how things return to their root—always comes down to these two instructions: “Attain utter emptiness; hold fast to stillness.” How many people truly understand them?

Shu Juzi said: If the mind focuses on what it contemplates and the Qi responds in kind, one can summon wind and rain or move mountains. If the spirit rests in one place and the Qi is kept there, one can pass through long ages, as though mysteriously spanning past and present. Thus Buddhists say that a Buddha can sit for five thousand kalpas in the time it takes to snap a finger, while Daoists say that a cultivator can transform creation within the space between the palms.

Master Min said: Human nature is inherently still; after remaining still for a long time, it begins to move. If, when it moves, one can stay focused and undistracted, one has grasped the key to cultivation. Singleness of purpose returns to the root, and ultimately one returns to stillness. What is called “returning to one’s destiny” means returning to one’s nature; this is the mystery of cultivation. He also said: To be single-minded is to center the heart with reverence and uprightness. When the spirit is not focused in action, it becomes scattered; after scattering, trying to regain stillness can easily lead to dullness and confusion. Therefore, when thoughts arise, one must remain single-minded. This is the principle of choosing good thoughts and holding firmly to them. Be focused while acting, then return to stillness when the action is over. Only when the spirit is settled and clear can one be considered lucid and upright.

He also said: The opening and closing of Heaven and Earth amount to movement and stillness; human life and death are likewise nothing other than movement and stillness. It is like going into battle: when the fighting ends, one returns to peace. It is like performing onstage: when the play is over, one returns to stillness. From this we can see that during activity, emotional thoughts come to the fore; in stillness, what emerges is one’s original nature—the mind as it was from the beginning.

Commentary: Master Min was a direct lineage successor of the Northern school, a tradition of Daoist Neidan cultivation. For this reason, his account of stillness practice is especially apt and profound.

The scripture says: “If you wish for long life, Shen and Qi must infuse one another.” The union and stillness of Shen and Qi are precisely what this section conveys. When Shen moves, Qi moves with it. Once Qi is depleted, Jing is damaged, and the body grows weak as a result. Only by gathering the Shen and stabilizing the Qi can the body become secure; from there, one naturally moves toward long life. This section is especially crucial.

The Perfected Wenyì said, “Bring all the functions of body and mind into one, then forget even this ‘one,’ and you can come and go together with the transformations of nature and Heaven and Earth.” He also said, “When the primordial, harmonious Qi within the body circulates of its own accord, one can become a Perfected Person. Chasing the breath outward single-mindedly will ultimately fail to achieve the aim.”

In plain language, Zhang Sanfeng’s teaching says: In ordinary seated meditation, let Shen guard Qi, bind your attention to the breath, and settle your awareness in the Dantian, the place where Jing, Qi, and Shen are gathered and nurtured in Neidan practice. Let the breath move there slowly and continuously, gathering Qi without letting it disperse. The Qi within the body then meets the Qi from outside in the Dantian, growing fuller day by day and gradually reaching the limbs and flowing through the hundred vessels. The Qi then breaks through the two passes at the spine, rises to the Niwan, the cultivation point in the head, and afterward circles down to the Jiangong in the middle of the chest and then to the lower Dantian. Shen and Qi guard one another, and the breath continues without interruption; the route of the River Chariot, the course along which Qi moves in Neidan practice, is then open. When practice reaches this stage, half the work of laying a firm foundation has been accomplished.

The Key Formulas of the Mysterious Principles Transmitted by the Immortals says that the method of cultivating immortality lies in gathering spirit and directing it into the Qi Cavity. The Qi Cavity is the single aperture of the Mysterious Pass. It lies at the center of the body, below the heart and above the two kidneys, aligned with the navel in front and the kidneys behind. It is regarded as the root from which life arises and by which it is sustained.

Precelestial Qi gathers to form one’s nature; postcelestial Qi gathers to form one’s life. The source of nature and life, and the root of life and death, are all located here. Both the length of a person’s life and the foundation for becoming an immortal or a sage are contained within it. Understand this aperture, gather in your mind and spirit, and regulate your body and breath, and you can take charge of your own nature and life. Fail to understand it and let your thoughts run freely, and your fate will be left to Heaven.

At the start of cultivation, focus your intention on the single aperture of the Mysterious Pass and use a method in which mind and breath accompany one another. Inhale gently, slowly, and continuously; exhale lightly and softly. Before the exhalation has ended, begin to inhale again. If the mind and spirit do not remain within this aperture, then even if the breath enters, the spirit will not follow and focus there, and the Mysterious Pass will not open. So let every thought remain here. If the breath does not return to this aperture, then even if the mind and spirit stay there, the Qi cannot flow through, and the Mysterious Pass will likewise remain closed. So let every breath return to its root.

Even when both mind and spirit and breath are in place, if you let the breath flow naturally in and out, the Qi still will not gather, and the Mysterious Pass will not open. You must breathe in more than you breathe out, as Zhongli taught. Keep all three points in mind: do not deliberately force progress, but do not neglect your practice; learn the proper measure of ease and effort. “Not neglecting” means practicing continuously. “Not forcing” means not straining to guide the breath or urging it to grow. When the spirit becomes settled and the Qi abundant, filling the Dantian (energy center), the Mysterious Pass will open and Jing (essence) and Qi will arrive.

This is like a wisp of incense smoke in a sealed room: at first it is faint, but as long as the fire continues to burn, the smoke gradually fills the whole room and seeps through every crack. The body’s true Qi is the same: as it gathers continuously, it comes to fill the entire body.

The true Qi within the human body—the original vital energy inherent in life—first moves through the abdomen, then gradually reaches the body’s various orifices and points, and finally extends to the limbs and the whole body. The process unfolds in this way. When Qi can be gathered, Jing can be produced. Before long, true Qi will circulate throughout the body, and true Jing will arise naturally. This is what is called “the Nine Returns completing the Great Medicine” (the repeated refinement of Jing and Qi in Neidan that forms the elixir) and “the divine power appearing in an instant.”

When one orifice opens, all the others open with it. Someone who is ill may feel a slight fever or pain after the illness, lasting three or four days, or seven or eight; then the pain stops, and the illness subsides. Those who are not ill will instead be strengthened. Thereafter comes the joining of Yin and Yang to return to the elixir (inner refinement in which Yin and Yang unite and the inner elixir congeals), followed by forming the embryo, shedding the embryo, and finally transcending transformation. These things happen naturally when the time arrives and the wondrous orifice opens; they cannot be forced by human effort.

When true Jing arises, provided Qi is abundant and Shen and Qi are full, within a day it will reach the limbs and the whole body. The skin may feel as though insects are crawling across it. At this time, continue the practice without slackening for even a moment. The Ren and Du vessels (two important channels running along the front and back of the body) meet between the lips. Qi will also travel to and reach Kan, Li, Qian, and Kun (Neidan terms symbolizing Yin-Yang and transformations of body and mind), the Lesser and Greater Circuits of Heaven (terms for the paths of inner circulation and parts of the body used in practice, as are the Three Vehicles and Three Fields), as well as the head and face, Yongquan, and other places. With constant practice, the results are inexhaustible and differ from person to person: one may form and shed the embryo, unite with the sun and moon, or send forth Shen and enter the marvelous. All of this comes from understanding the formula from beginning to end. Persistent practice brings inexhaustible results, which vary from person to person. Forming and shedding the embryo, uniting with the sun and moon, and sending forth Shen to enter the marvelous all come from understanding the formula from beginning to end. In the end, they happen naturally, though one does not know how.

Shang’s note: The wondrous formula in this passage, as well as the section above titled “Hold firmly to emptiness to nourish Shen and Qi,” was copied by the late Ming scholar Fu Qingshu and annotated in red ink by the Qing scholar Gu Tinglin. Mr. Fu often associated with extraordinary people who had attained the Dao. The principles and practices he recorded are therefore profound, unlike the empty speculations of those who have heard only a little. Those who aspire to cultivate health and practice refinement, and to approach the realm of transformation, should put these teachings into practice for themselves; they will not be deceived by them.

Wang Dongting said: If you understand how to make your own body’s parts depend on one another, you can draw upon the creative power of Heaven and Earth. If you understand how to let the heart and breathing depend on each other naturally, that is “dual cultivation” (a Daoist Neidan method that refines body and mind together).

The Dao’s substance is “true emptiness,” corresponding to Shen and one’s nature; it must be sought in the Western Qian Heaven (symbolizing Heaven and the Yang aspect). The Dao’s function is “wondrous existence,” corresponding to Qi and life; it must be sought at the seabed Kun Earth (symbolizing Earth and the Yin aspect). Only when Shen and Qi unite can one cultivate both nature and life—that is, cultivate the mind and the root of life at the same time.

Cultivation cannot be pursued by fixating on the physical body, nor by fixating on the breath through the mouth and nose. Those who have truly received the transmission should know how to use the breath through the mouth and nose to return it to the primordial, original Qi of the One (the source Qi from before life became differentiated). In the phrase “mind and breath depend on each other,” “mind” does not mean the physical heart, but the original Jing condensed before birth; “breath” does not mean breathing through the mouth and nose, but the original Qi that moves before birth. When mind and breath unite in a subtle way, this is the primordial Shen.

“Naturalness” is the fundamental principle followed by the Dao, Heaven, Earth, and humanity alike. Cultivation should accord with nature, but one should not treat nature as something to be left entirely to chance. Dual cultivation of nature and life depends entirely on regulating the firing process—the timing, rhythm, and degree of advance and retreat in cultivation—and this in turn depends on following what is natural.

Primordial Qi comes from emptiness and nonbeing. “Emptiness” means quieting the mind so that Shen appears of itself; “nonbeing” means letting go of attachment to the physical body so that Qi settles of itself. Yet emptiness and nonbeing have both precelestial and postcelestial forms: the precelestial belongs to the Dharma Body (the body of one’s nature beyond physical form), while the postcelestial belongs to the Form Body (the physical body). Precelestial emptiness, stillness, and purity are used to refine oneself and establish the foundation; if the postcelestial state merely sinks into vacancy and stillness, it becomes solitary Yin and extinction. The Great Way of the Golden Elixir gives particular importance to the emptiness beyond the body; cultivating the precelestial Dharma Body also takes account of the postcelestial Form Body.

More specifically, without subduing the dragon, one cannot tame the tiger; without accumulating mercury, one cannot obtain lead. Mercury is the inner medicine, and lead is the outer medicine. At the initial stage of practice, one must first…

It is also said: Taken separately, unless you subdue the dragon within your heart, you cannot control the tiger within; unless you gather Mercury, you cannot obtain Lead. “Mercury” here refers to the inner medicine, the foundation of internal cultivation; “Lead” refers to the outer medicine, the substances or conditions associated with external cultivation. At the beginning of cultivation, you must first open the way for the inner medicine, then for the outer medicine. Thus, when the inner is accessible, the outer must also be accessible. Taken together, refining the self—that is, cultivating and bringing yourself into balance—is the same as laying the foundation; laying the foundation is itself refining the self. Refining the self means nourishing the spirit, while laying the foundation means steadying the breath.

When thoughts do not stir, with neither coming nor going, neither entering nor leaving, stability and stillness naturally abide.

The practice of stilling thought and ending all coming and going is a way of settling and gathering the heart and spirit. It is not enough simply to have no coming or going: one must also transcend distinctions and oppositions, leave both extremes, empty away distinctions between past, present, and future, and rest in a state of suchness that does not move. The key is to rest there without clinging to the place of rest. When the heart is still, Qi is still as well. Hence the words that follow: “neither entering nor leaving, naturally abiding.” Qi no longer enters or leaves, breathing comes to a halt, and one reaches the deep meditative absorption in which breathing and thought cease. The heart and Qi then become one.

The Perfected Man Min said: “Observe only movement and stillness; do not cling to the view that something remains fixed within movement. With no going away, there is no coming either, and so I am always at ease.” Neither movement nor stillness is the ultimate state; one must set aside both extremes in contemplation. He also said: “Now I am always at ease: there is neither movement nor attachment to stillness. Within ‘□,’ awareness is naturally clear, and Heaven and Earth, people, the myriad things, and I all merge into one.”

Diligently practicing in this way is the true principle.

Now that you have received this wondrous teaching, you should practice it diligently; you will surely attain profound results. This is the true path to becoming an immortal, incomparable to minor arts from side paths.

What are these profound results? Sima Chengzhen says that the Dao possesses supreme power and can transform a person’s body and spirit. When the body becomes attuned to the Dao and joins with the spirit, this is called a “Spirit Person.” The spirit nature is empty, still, and unobstructed, while the body neither changes nor perishes. The body, too, becomes like the spirit nature, and so is beyond birth and death. When hidden, body and spirit merge; when manifest, spirit and body unite. Thus one can walk through water and fire unharmed, and stand before the sun and moon without casting a shadow. Whether to remain or vanish is under one’s own control, and coming and going are without hindrance. Even while the body remains a tangible form, one can reach a state of emptiness, stillness, and mystery—how much more, then, will one’s luminous wisdom deepen day by day?

Yet cultivating the Dao with an open mind has degrees of depth. With deep cultivation, its effects extend throughout the body; with shallow cultivation, they reach only the mind and spirit. When the effects extend throughout the body, one becomes a “Spirit Person.” When they affect only the mind and spirit, one gains no more than keen perception, while the body remains subject to decay and death. Why is this so? Wisdom is simply an activity of the mind; overuse exhausts the mind and spirit. Someone who has just gained a little cleverness may delight in it and speak and argue at length. The Qi of the spirit is then dissipated and cannot nourish the body, so life may be cut short. The path of Dao cultivation is difficult to perfect. The “release of the corpse” spoken of in the scriptures—the Daoist term for a practitioner abandoning the physical body and departing through transformation—refers to this condition.

Sima Chengzhen also says: There are three kinds of mountains upon which plants and trees depend to keep from withering. If a person embraces the Dao, the body too can thereby endure and remain firm. Long exposure to the Dao transforms a person’s nature until it becomes one with the spirit. Through refining and nourishing the spirit, one enters ever more deeply into the subtle, ultimately uniting with the Dao. In this way, one can disperse the whole body into the myriad forms and gather the myriad forms into a single body. The vision of wisdom has no bounds; the body transcends its finite limits, making use of both emptiness and form—the void and the tangible—and joining in the transformative workings of Heaven and Earth.

He also says: When the body is joined with the Dao, there is no moment in which it cannot exist; when the mind is joined with the Dao, there is nothing it cannot comprehend. The ears become “Dao ears,” able to hear even in the absence of sound; the eyes become “Dao eyes,” able to see even without shape or color. This is how the six faculties—the six capacities for perceiving the external world, a term shared by Daoism and Buddhism, including the ears and eyes—come to function without hindrance.

This passage describes levels of attainment in realizing the Dao. At a more superficial level, the spirit has reached a wondrous state, while the body remains unchanged; this is called “corpse liberation” (the practitioner leaves the mortal body and attains the Dao). At a deeper level, both body and spirit reach perfect subtlety—what is known as “becoming a sage in this very body and ascending to heaven in broad daylight.” Ultimately, such transformation depends on cultivating wisdom and nourishing body and mind over a long period, so that the body’s “Four Great Elements” (earth, water, fire, and wind, which make up the body) are continually imbued and refined. With time, the body’s substance transforms, and one becomes an immortal.

At the beginning of immortal cultivation, warmth in the abdomen can serve as a sign of progress. Then the warmth gradually spreads throughout the body, bringing it into harmony and fullness. It may even reach the point where one can melt dry mercury in the mouth and roast meat with one’s breath, making the whole body purely Yang. Human flesh and blood are inherently Yin in substance. When Yang Qi flourishes, Yin substance declines; when Yang Qi is strong and vigorous, Yin substance becomes weak; when Yang Qi is pure, Yin substance is exhausted. If Yang Qi already manifests in the ability to melt mercury and roast meat, how could a body of flesh and blood remain unchanged?

From the Buddhist perspective, human life is made up of “lifespan, warmth, and consciousness.” “Lifespan” is the root of life received from one’s parents; its length varies according to how much one has received. “Warmth” is the heat of vital activity: when it flourishes, life is vigorous; when it ceases, life ends. “Consciousness” is awareness—the consciousness said to enter first when one comes into life, depart last when one dies, and serve as its governing principle. The essentials of cultivation, then, are to strengthen one’s lifespan, increase warmth, and make the body robust so that consciousness has a place to dwell.

On this basis, as warmth continues to grow, the body’s substance gradually becomes more refined, and lifespan can become stable and enduring. The body transforms into rainbow light and is no longer subject to change or dissolution; consciousness is freed from defilement and returns to perfect luminosity. Is this not the same state described in Daoism as the “Nine Returns and Seven Reversals” (the process in Neidan of returning to the source and restoring the original nature)—two different expressions pointing to one attainment?

Esoteric teachings regard the practice of channels, winds, and drops (cultivating the body’s channels, breath, and inner essence) as the most direct and effective way to transform the body. In practices centered on “Great Perfection,” both the preliminary visualizations and the eventual entry into “thögal” (a contemplative practice within Great Perfection) treat using the mind to guide the breath as the key to bodily transformation.

The explanation of the Notes and Commentary on the Scripture of Embryonic Breathing ends here. A few further remarks may be added. Although the preceding discussion gathered the words of ancient practitioners and arranged them under separate sections, the key throughout lies in just two words: Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). Neither has a fixed precedence over the other.

In actual practice, as cultivation deepens, its effects gradually change. Yet practitioners of the Dao must always keep Shen and Qi together. When Shen and Qi remain together, there is “Shen and Qi.” When neither is clung to and awareness settles into stillness and emptiness, one “forgets Shen and Qi and enters the void.” This “void” is not an emptiness deliberately created; it is a state that arises naturally, through which the Dao’s body becomes complete and luminous.

The “contemplative practice” mentioned in the text refers to methods such as visualization and reflective observation. “Thögal” is a specialized term for a practice in the Great Perfection tradition of Tibetan Buddhism. The original text discusses these alongside methods of “gathering Qi with the mind,” presenting them as key techniques for transforming the body.