《阴符经玄解正义》

The Yinfu Jing (scripture/classic) Xuanjie Zhengyi (Correct Interpretation) is an annotated commentary by Min Yide of Gui’an. Min Yide says that the Yinfu Jing Xuanjie was written by Fan Yizhong. Although it is called a “Xuanjie,” the meaning of its explanations does not accord with the correct Dao (the Way), and the errors it leaves are far from slight. He therefore elaborates according to the sense of the original text of the Yinfu Jing, so as to correct the problems in it.

Min Yide also says that he fears saying too much will bring reproach. Commentaries on the Yinfu Jing number in the dozens, each setting forth its own profound principles, so how dare he rashly judge who is right and who is wrong? As for the explanation he himself has offered, he still cannot claim to have fully comprehended it in his heart.

The former master, Elder Taixu, left behind the Sanyi Yinfu (Notes on the Three Ones) of Perfected Li of Niwan, the Mud-pill. The colophon at the end of the book says:

The Yin Fu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Accord) is a classic transmitted from master to disciple in the Kongtong lineage. Without oral instruction, its deeper meaning is hard to grasp. I once heard the Daoist Erwu explain it, and afterward I turned it over in my mind again and again. Although his account stayed close to the text, I felt that it had not necessarily taken in the whole meaning of the Great Dao (the Way). My mind was never at ease, and I inquired in this way for many years.

One day Teacher Niwan came from afar and said to me: “The explanation I first heard was indeed what the Apricot Immortal had understood from the written words. What is precious in a profound oral formula is thorough comprehension. Only by setting aside the surface of the words and seeking the mysterious principle can one come to insight. Lately I have heard that Zimu wrote the Yin Fu Fa Mi (Revealing the Secrets of the Yin Fu), yet his account cannot bring people in general to grasp the mind-method within it.

“The orthodox transmission of the Yin Fu Jing was first passed by the Most High to the Western Regions. Later, when Bodhidharma came from the east, it was transmitted into China. This is what the world calls a separate transmission outside the teachings, and it speaks of the wondrous principle that this very mind is the Buddha, and this very form is emptiness. The patriarch of our lineage, the Perfected Changchun, personally cultivated this Way. The Daoist method he transmitted came from the Perfected Huolong (Fire Dragon) and from Patriarch Wang Chongyang. In his later years, after Patriarch Wang heard of this method, he took it to Patriarch Lü Chunyang to have it confirmed. Patriarch Lü said:

“The mysterious purport of this scripture lies in observing the Way of Heaven and grasping the Way of Heaven, in judging the time and weighing the situation, and in taking up or setting aside in accord with the moment. Of the deeper meanings in the text, the section on the course of the sun and moon shows that Yin and Yang (Yin-Yang) differ in their natures, that each has its own standpoint, and that each has its own subtle function. The section on the foolish person opens a fresh meaning, showing that once one has understood, one gets through everywhere. The section on ‘human beings, by means of’ says that all affairs ultimately hold the wondrous principle of returning to the source. If one traces the pivot by which it awakens a transmission from mind to mind, it lies in the single character bu, ‘not.’ The formula within the formula lies in the final section of the scripture. All these principles are to be discerned in utmost emptiness and steadfast stillness. The key to entering is the character jing, ‘stillness.’ The key to bringing body and mind to centered harmony is the character sha, read in the departing tone, meaning to draw inward and come to rest. One must also begin from the two characters qiqi, ‘marvelous vessel,’ at the close, cultivate body and mind, and at last reach the realm of entering sagehood. Within this lies a wondrous principle that runs through from beginning to end.

“To enter, one first investigates the character dao, ‘theft,’ in the scripture. Here ‘theft’ means that things are arranged in sequence and come to belong to a vessel. This character already shows a hint of the clue, yet what it belongs to is only primordial Qi (vital energy). The sage speaks in this way because cultivation must nourish the bodily form, and within primordial Qi there is a ‘one.’ One may also say that this is the nurturing of innate nature. This is why you are told to investigate the character ‘theft’ first.

“As for what the marvelous vessel really is, it is hard to explain in words. Sought only among outward traces, it cannot be found; only after form and trace are forgotten does it appear. The sage says that the Dao does not leave one’s own person. One must use the Dao to blend and temper, so that body and mind are refined into a dwelling of Shen (spirit). In movement it is like a hawk soaring on high and a fish leaping at the surface of the water; in stillness, every sound falls silent. By long nourishing the true primordial, so that day by day it returns to the ‘one,’ and by no longer clinging to the self, the abode of the spirit grows settled. At this point, however, one has only gained a foundation; the cultivation is not yet complete.

“One then gathers Jing (essence) and concentrates Shen, empties the mind and condenses the spirit, so that the true One fills the whole body and merges as one with the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity. All forms and appearances are to be regarded as empty nothingness, while one holds fast and waits. When the moment comes, the primordial of the Three Powers is sure to converge within it, full and abundant, as though it had belonged to oneself from the beginning. The myriad things transform and arise, left to what is so of itself. Purified, and purified again, the primordial of the Three Powers condenses into a precious pearl, hanging before the eyes in a moment of elusive vagueness, and only then is the foundation complete. Afterward the precious pearl and oneself suddenly become one, and there is only a sense of boundless light. This is the true One of the Three Powers and the true One of one’s own person joining and not remaining two. It is what is called ‘the embryo forming in the vessel,’ and this is the marvelous vessel. How vast is the working of the marvelous vessel!

“Even so, if one traces the practice back to its beginning, one must still start from refining the self. Only when the work of refining the self is mature can one go on to cultivate the marvelous vessel. Although the scripture speaks of the final realm, this principle is present in the innate nature of ordinary people and sages, of men and of women alike. For the world to speak of it as solely a method of cultivation for men is a misunderstanding. Its correct application is shown precisely in the section on ‘Heaven and humanity issuing forth together.’ Hence it is said that without oral transmission it is hard to comprehend.

“Such is the general meaning of this scripture. Those who read it must have a clear eye of the mind. Dividing the words and reading them together can indeed be a way of seeking the mysterious, yet one must also comprehend them as a whole, keep and tend them, and pass from one instance to others of its kind. The method has no fixed and unchanging form. The crux lies entirely in the four characters ‘waning and waxing, arising, and gathering’—that is, decrease and increase, setting in motion, and drawing inward. In many places the scripture contains the principle that both aspects are to be used at once. Such places are beyond counting, and they are everywhere. They must not be overlooked, nor may they be forced into strained interpretations. Once one departs from the true purport, one falls onto a deviant path, and when one wishes to recover, it is already too late.

“I now tell you the three steps of cultivating the Dao. At the outset, one cultivates from ‘there being a person’ to ‘there being no person.’ Next, from within ‘non-being’ one gives rise to ‘being.’ Finally, one gathers ‘being’ and returns it to ‘non-being.’ This is the meaning of ‘withdrawing the hidden into the hidden.’ Everything follows what is so of itself, for within it there is of itself a presence that needs no human contrivance.

“The great Way of the celestial immortals is wholly present in this scripture. If in cultivating the Dao one sets this scripture aside, what else is there to follow? Take this scripture as the root. In its greater use it can aid the world; in its lesser use one may also fill up three thousand good deeds and complete eight hundred merits, and likewise realize the fruit of the Dao.”

Patriarch Wang received this teaching with reverence. Patriarch Wang passed these principles on in his teaching. Patriarch Qiu kept them inscribed in his heart, yet he did not set them down in writing. They were transmitted from generation to generation until they reached me. Of late I have heard that some misunderstand the orthodox explanation and recast it as a deviant doctrine of Yin-Yang, so that this scripture becomes a text that harms the world. For the sake of the correct Way in the world, I have set forth its mysterious purport. You should record these words.

After Elder Taixu had received the instruction with reverence, he wrote this passage at the end of the Sanyi Yinfu. This book and the Yin-Yang Jing stand to one another as outside and inside. After I obtained it, I treasured it for forty years.

This passage records the reasons that led the author, Yide, to write a preface to the Yinfu Jing Xuanjie Zhengyi (Correct Interpretation of the Profound Explication of the Scripture of the Hidden Talisman), and it comments on several commentaries on the Yinfu Jing then in circulation.

The author says that his disciple Shi Zhaolin was reading the Yinfu Jing Xuanjie (Profound Explication of the Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) at his desk and brought it to him for instruction. After reading it, the author could not help sighing again and again. The Yinfu Jing Xuanjie is said to have been written by Fan Yibin of Panyang. The author holds that Fan Yibin interpreted the scripture on the basis of what he had heard. Although his intention deserves approval, what he heard was incomplete, and his explanation is therefore not sufficiently correct. Erroneous doctrines are also mixed in, and he seeks to prove them by the method of dissecting characters current in the world. The author regards this as precisely the kind of writing that the Perfected Niwan said would harm the ways of the age. Now that the book has been included in the Daozang (the comprehensive collection of Daoist scriptures), the author reflects that his ancestral master and his teacher may long ago have foreseen this, and so, eighty years earlier, had already clarified the profound purport of the Yinfu Jing, lest later generations be misled. He believes that the Great Dao (the Way) will not remain obscure forever. Having himself received his teachers’ transmission, he dare not evade the responsibility of elucidating the correct Dao. Following the transmission of his lineage, he therefore composed the present work after Fan’s commentary and titled it the Yinfu Jing Xuanjie Zhengyi, hoping to carry on his teachers’ transmission and expound the correct Dao.

The author then turns to other commentaries on the Yinfu Jing. The Daozang Jiyao (a selected collection of Daoist scriptures) includes a “Collected Explanations of the Ten Perfected,” issued under the names of ten perfected beings, including Chisongzi, Zhang Liang, Ge Xuan, Xu Xun, Zhongli Quan, Lü Yan, Shi Jianwu, Perfected Cui, Liu Haichan, and Cao Daochong. The author holds that these contents were expounded by means of fuji (a divinatory method in which spirits are invoked to reveal written characters). There are also the commentary of Zhang Guo of the Tang dynasty, the commentary of Wang Daoyuan of the Yuan dynasty, and the revised edition of Gao Shiming of the Ming dynasty; the author likewise finds in them passages that are disorderly and inappropriate. The commentary of Shen Yafu, the commentary of Master Cangya, and the verses of Yuanyangzi he classifies as works produced by fuji.

The author further lists fine editions of older commentaries that he considers worthy of attention but that were not included in the Daozang Jiyao, such as the edition with a preface by Zhang Hongyang, the rare edition of Chen Xiwei, the commentary of Li Quan, and the commentary of Zhu Ziyang. He finally reminds readers that, in selecting commentaries on the classics, one ought to possess the discernment to distinguish the genuine from the spurious and the superior from the inferior.

In the Yinfu Jing (Yin Tally Classic), “yin” refers to Taiyin, the moon, and “fu” refers to the meeting of Taiyin with Taiyang, the sun. In a year there are twelve conjunctions of the sun and moon, and likewise twelve full moons. When the seasons of conjunction and full moon correspond to one another, they are called fuhou, the tokens of correspondence.

The moon shines by borrowing the light of the sun, and within it is contained “true fire,” so it is also called the fire tally. “Jing” (classic) means that the moon’s movement follows a definite rhythm, like the rise and fall of the sea tide: it arrives on schedule and never falls out of order. Earlier writers who explained “yin” as darkness, or who took it to mean a brief span of time, were all mistaken. What is spoken of here is the moon itself: the moon contains the true fire of the sun, and the cultivator draws upon it by following the fuhou. This is an important standard for cultivating the Dao (the Way), and it is the key meaning of the whole classic.

Yide says: Such an explanation stays close to the sense of the classic and does not branch into irrelevancies. Once the student understands and returns to the correct Dao, empty generalities are avoided; yet if one clings to the literal surface and insists on seeking concrete signs, one will instead stray into side paths and make light of nature and life.

Upper Chapter

Observe the Dao of Heaven and follow the regular course of Heaven’s movement, and the way of cultivation lies entirely within this.

Fan remarks that the character Dao (the Way) carries the sense of conjoining in a downward movement, as if the first stage of cultivation must circulate downward from the head. Dao is composed of “head” (shou) and “to go” (zou); taken together, the two convey precisely this meaning. “Heaven” (tian) denotes pure Yang, yet pure Yang cannot be accomplished by one person alone and requires the union of two persons. “Two” (er) symbolizes Yin; when two persons come together in one place, this tacitly accords with the meaning of the character for Heaven. The character “observe” (guan) likewise conceals a subtle sense: within it, two “mouths” (kou) seem to stand above “fine blossoms,” and thus the mechanism by which things can be manifested and illumined is hinted at by the character guan.

The opening and closing transformations of Yin-Yang resemble the empty, still motion of the heavenly bodies, which of themselves reveal the light of union. The cultivator must emulate the Dao of Heaven by reversing its course, hold fast to the pivotal aperture in the middle, and let Yin and Yang meet and pass through; one must also rely on “one and nine” as the key that impels the transformations of creative change. When a person comprehends and practices this method, the secret meaning of the Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) can be grasped. These two sentences are the guiding principle of the entire scripture and serve to introduce what follows.

Yide says: Mr. Fan did not receive the true transmission. He merely clung to the knack of taking characters apart by their written forms, and on that basis borrowed the name of the sage to deceive and mislead people. Even if what he heard came from some other source, it still belongs in the end to a side path. This section is the general outline of the entire scripture (Jing). Read directly according to the text, the key lies in “observing Heaven” and “holding Heaven”: Heaven is taken as the substance, and observing and holding as the function. This is why the scripture speaks of the Dao (the Way), and speaks of movement.

The character “Dao” need not be taken apart. To dissect the character “Dao” is to fall into the lowest vehicle within the Yin-Yang school, a grade that does not even enter the ranks. This school was founded by foreign monks (monks from abroad) and entered the Central Plains after the Han dynasty; the so-called “blue-eyed Hu monks” are precisely these people. Books of this kind circulate in the world, and our lineage has always scorned them. Here the character “Dao” should be read directly, and the character “Heaven” likewise. Only when the character “observe” is taken apart does a subtle method of cultivation appear; taking apart the character “hold” also has its rationale. The method of cultivation, however, should begin from the original meaning of the character “observe,” with effort applied within emptiness, stillness, and silent repose. In this way the subtle principles and responses within it will appear layer upon layer—truly profound and mysterious. I hope students will bring these accounts together and investigate them as one. The most balanced and correct sense is that this section already contains the marvel of a twofold approach: once one understands that the character “observe” should be analyzed from its original meaning, the mysterious interpretation will appear of itself, and at every point it will accord with principle.

Heaven has five thieves; one who can see them will flourish. The five thieves reside in the mind and are carried out within the Dao of Heaven. The universe is as if held in the hand, and the transformations of the myriad things are as if born from oneself.

Mr. Fan says: The “Heaven of the two persons” has the five encumbrances of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and body. Only when one recognizes that these five will become encumbrances upon oneself can one be said to have seen them; yet in actual cultivation one still cannot leave the functioning of these five thieves. The human mind must be brought to recognize…

Fan says: “A person’s own innate nature is burdened by the five sense faculties—the eyes, the ears, the nose, the tongue, and the body. If one can recognize that they will become a burden upon oneself, one has seen the matter clearly; yet in actual practice one cannot leave these ‘five thieves’ (the five senses and the workings of the desires attached to them). The essential point is to let the human heart-mind discern the five thieves, and then employ the five thieves to influence others so that others are burdened by them; one must never allow the five thieves to become a burden upon oneself. Turning the five thieves upon others is no more than setting a hunting dog to work; one grasps the pivot of Yin-Yang (yinyang) and lets the five thieves disturb and entangle others. If one can truly adapt to circumstances as they arise, the myriad transformations will spring forth from within oneself.”

Yide says: “Fan’s interpretation is utterly absurd. He takes the words of the sage as intended only for men, and thereby exposes his own bias; this is nothing more than a use of the kind belonging to sprites and heterodox arts, something Fan has failed to consider. To seek success by the way of cunning and deceit is sure to end in death by a thunderbolt, in falling to the condition of snakes and foxes, or even in sinking so low as to become creatures such as geckos, taken by others and made into aphrodisiacs for the arts of the bedchamber; such karmic retribution is bound to arrive. How could he know that this section sets forth the sage’s learning of self-cultivation and self-examination, and clarifies the meaning of the two characters xian and zhi in the text above? When the Five Phases (wuxing: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) are employed rightly, they become the five De (de, Virtue/Power); when employed wrongly, they become the five thieves. The crux lies in the single word ‘see’: when the Five Phases flourish in a one-sided excess, they become the five thieves; if the human heart-mind can perceive this excess and move in accord with the Dao (dao, the Way) of Heaven, it can grasp the authority that regulates transformation, so that the myriad changes arise from within oneself. Men and women alike are born receiving the harmonious Qi (qi, vital energy) of Heaven and Earth, and each sets right his or her own nature and life (xingming). How could the Dao of Heaven contain any principle of harming one side while benefiting the other? Carefully following the purport of the scripture (jing, classic), what is discussed is the employment of the Five Phases: within De there is also punishment; restrain what is excessive and take what is duly moderate, and the root of the myriad transformations will not become a source of predatory harm. This is a teaching that addresses both men and women and universally instructs people in self-cultivation and self-examination; only then does it deserve to be called the Great Dao.”

Innate nature is a person’s original nature; the human heart-mind is the pivot of change and activity. Only by establishing the standard of the Dao of Heaven can human nature and the emotions be settled.

Fan says: The heavenly nature with which a person is endowed is at first minute, yet it naturally bears the “five thieves” (five faculties that can impel things to change). The moment these faculties appear, they all arise from within the human heart-mind. The heart-mind can perceive, and through this a person comes to know; the human heart-mind is the pivot that sets change in motion. To establish the Dao (the Way) of Heaven allows the heart-mind to come to rest.

Fan further says: The heavenly nature with which a person is endowed is at first minute, yet it naturally bears the “five thieves.” The moment these faculties appear, they arise from within the human heart-mind. The heart-mind perceives these faculties and then observes them with the aid of the eyes, and so it is called the “mechanistic mind” (the mind that can discern and grasp change). One who understands this will still, within, the reckless stirrings of the mechanistic mind, then take hold of this acuity and bring it to bear on the heavenly nature one has received, thereby laying the foundation for cultivating the Dao. This foundation cannot do without the pre-heaven “lead of six-and-one” (a term of Daoist cultivation, referring to the subtle pre-heaven substance used in practice); the two characters “six-and-one” are precisely what show a person how to settle himself. Heart-mind and nature, Heaven and the human being, are all indispensable to cultivating the Dao. Between them there is not the slightest gap, nor should there be the least confusion.

Yide says: Fan’s explanation is wrong at the root, to say nothing of his understanding of the rest. He neither grasps the purport of this section of the Jing (scripture/classic) nor recognizes the true “One” (the authentic Dao of which Daoism speaks). Deluded by heterodox teachings, he splits the character li, “to establish,” into “six” and “one.” He does not realize that this section speaks of the human being receiving heavenly nature, while the heart-mind is the pivot of the transformations of the myriad things; the purport of the scripture is to teach people to fulfill their heavenly nature and thereby establish their own allotted destiny. The foundation of cultivating the Dao lies in fulfilling one’s nature; how could a mere “six-lead” serve as the foundation of the Dao? Fan takes “six-and-one” for the True One—how could he know that “six-and-one” has a meaning of its own? He fails to understand that this section treats of nature and the next of life; if life is to be preserved, the root lies in heavenly nature, and so one must fulfill nature in order to lay the foundation. Explain it correctly according to the sense, and what comes before and after will connect of itself; why split the character li apart in order to interpret it?

When Heaven issues the mechanism of slaughter, the positions and movements of the stars change; when Earth issues the mechanism of slaughter, dragons and snakes surge up from the ground; when a human being issues the mechanism of slaughter, Heaven and Earth are overturned along with it. When Heaven and the human being together set change in motion, the foundation of the transformations of the myriad things is thereby established.

Fan’s commentary says: Yang Qi (vital energy) manifests brightness through the constellations; this is what issues downward from Heaven. Yin Qi becomes manifest through the rising of dragons and serpents; this is what ascends from Earth. This is to speak of them separately. Viewed together, earthly Qi, as it rises, inherently meets the Qi that descends from Heaven, and the brightness sent forth from Heaven is likewise made manifest because earthly Qi ascends. A person observes the signs of mutual resonance between Heaven and Earth and thereby causes Yin-Yang to reverse and circle back. The working of this Qi rests entirely with two persons.

If one goes further and speaks of them as joined: earthly Qi rises and intersects with heavenly Qi, and the light of Heaven is also revealed because earthly Qi ascends. The two persons discern the moment when Heaven and Earth respond to each other and cause Yin-Yang to reverse and return upon itself; within their unity, where neither is distinguished from the other, this Qi is set in motion by a single breath. Therefore, at this moment, they gather the pure and undivided true Qi between Heaven and Earth and grasp the mysterious operation of Yin-Yang’s creative transformation. This is precisely “a birth that is not birth, a transformation that is not transformation,” and it is also the subtle working of returning from the Li trigram to the Qian trigram. Its essential point is nothing other than relying on a person whose mind and will have already been settled, so as to secure one’s own fundamental original Qi. The line “Heaven and humanity issue forth together” is precisely the hidden yet essential purport of the entire Jing (scripture/classic).

Yide says: This section sets forth a principle of the utmost subtlety and grandeur. Unfortunately, Mr. Fan explains it with an erroneous account, which is nothing short of a fool talking in a dream. What this section discusses is how to establish ming (securing the foundation of life cultivation), and the emphasis lies entirely in the work of xing (nurturing the mind-nature and cultivating original nature).

The saying, “No matter how the wind and waves may rise, I myself do not send the boat out,” means that, while the mind and Shen (spirit) are settled, one observes the signs of transformation. When the rain has passed and the sky has cleared, when the clouds have scattered and the sun has come forth, one accords with the moment and proceeds by the Dao (the Way). The transformations of the myriad things then arise of themselves, without any need to rely on deliberate human effort. Stated directly according to the principle, this can be grasped. What the text calls “killing” refers to the pattern of transformation: the vital impulse of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) often lies hidden in a state that appears to be decline and perishing. For example, Metal generates Water and Water generates Wood, so the vital impulse of Wood comes from Water; yet when Wood meets Metal, it is restrained and declines. This shows that vital impulse is concealed within decay—that is, the mechanism of transformation in which expansion and contraction are rooted in each other. Without the function of “killing,” things could not first bend and then extend, and the Dao of transformation would come to an end.

The stellar lodges, together with the dragon and the snake, display the signs of the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang and of their alternating change. The overturning of Heaven and Earth explains the principle that Yin and Yang transform into each other and reverse positions. The vital impulse of transformation arises from a contrary course: “generating” is going with, and “killing” is going against; by going against, one accomplishes going with, and only then can the foundation of the transformations of the myriad things be made secure. The first six lines give a general account of the wonder of the mutual resonance among the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and humanity), while the last two lines contain inexhaustible subtle meaning. The crux lies in the moment when natural transformation has just begun to stir: one regulates and grasps it in keeping with the timing, neither in excess nor falling short, neither rushing ahead nor lagging behind, for the opportunity vanishes in an instant. This is not a matter of cultivating emptiness and stillness to the utmost and then having nowhere to begin. When Mr. Fan says that the whole Jing (scripture/classic) conceals secrets, it is precisely so.

Yet to mistake the Kan trigram for the “True One” (the pure and unitary root spoken of in cultivation), and further to insist on dissecting the character he (“union”) as two persons joining their mouths in a combined meaning, and to use the “three families” to corroborate one another, all of this departs very far from the main purport of the scriptural text.

There is another interpretation that reads “killing” in the departing tone and draws on the sense of the Modesty hexagram in the Classic of Changes: the dispositions of the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—all dislike fullness and favor humility and withdrawal. This layer of meaning, however, applies after transformation has been set in motion; it is the way of proceeding at the point of continuation and turning, and it is also an important juncture that one needs to understand in Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation. The character ding in the text further contains two senses, “settling in stability” and “fixing and determining.” All these functions lay the groundwork for obtaining the True One; once the True One is gained, the foundation is established. But this is not something that can be obtained by cleverness and ingenuity. If one does not understand the principle involved, then when one ought to contract one will fail to contract, when one wishes to settle one will be unable to settle, and when one seeks to accord one will be unable to accord. A discrepancy of a hair’s breadth becomes an error of a thousand miles. This is the most crucial point of the present section.

Nature and the emotions may be distinguished as clever or as plain and simple, and either may be gathered in and concealed. The deviant and delusive Qi (vital energy) of the nine orifices—the two eyes, the two ears, the two nostrils, the mouth, and the anterior and posterior yin orifices—turns above all on the ears, the eyes, and the mouth. How these three are employed depends on the regulation of movement and stillness.

Fan says that the Qi of True Unity, the authentic original Qi spoken of in cultivation, arises from within the body. Without practice one cannot guide and gather it, nor bring its function into play; whether it is used fittingly depends entirely on the mind’s control. If one is drawn by nature and the emotions, what appears clever on the surface is in fact clumsy; if one is not swayed by nature and the emotions, what looks plain and simple is in truth upright in conduct and effective. Cleverness lies in gathering and concealing it and keeping it hidden: this seems clumsy, yet it is precisely the skillful application.

The scripture goes on to say that one should draw true Qi from true Yin, gather and conceal it in a hidden and subtle place, and cause it to rise and fall along the Ren and Du vessels (names of the meridians of the human body), circulating without cease and without obstruction. Fan holds that only thus can vital life be maintained for long, and that what is called longevity therefore depends on concealing and storing the breath. Ordinary people do not understand the subtlety of this concealment, nor are they careful with the nine orifices, and so they deplete their lives.

Among the nine orifices, the most sensitive and the most crucial are the ears, the eyes, and the mouth. The use of the three between movement and stillness is as the Daodejing says: “If you wish to draw it in, first let it open; if you wish to weaken it, first let it grow strong; if you wish to cast it aside, first let it arise; if you wish to seize it, first give.” Fan says that the three are gathered and stored in the one, and that the one in turn contains the three. Although the passage speaks specifically of the ears, the eyes, and the mouth, it does not leave aside the essential point of the “Western Maiden” (Xinü); this is implied within it and is a matter of the utmost importance in cultivation.

Yide explains that the character “nature” refers to the temperamental nature grounded in Qi (vital energy)—that is, the state of lying stored and unmoving. The clumsy are ensnared by the drag of turbid Yin, and the clever are likewise ensnared by the drag of coping with a welter of affairs; both ought to gather in and subdue mind and nature, and not set them in motion lightly. After a long time, deep and expansive wisdom can arise; cleverness is then hardly worth mentioning, and clumsiness no longer becomes a hindrance.

In my view, this section carries on from the character “foundation” in the passage above, and it concerns how innate human nature may be clever or clumsy. If one knows how to gather in and subdue mind and nature and not employ them at will, one will not be led into deviation and delusion by the nine apertures (the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and other sense organs). Forgetting cleverness and dissolving clumsiness depends on knowing how to hold to the three essentials. One should remain free of reckless stirring even in the midst of action—that is, be able to be still when at rest, and also able to keep to stillness when moving. This section speaks of how stillness can give birth to wisdom, and it sets forth for the reader the essentials of nurturing nature.

Fan is sunk in heterodox teachings and does not understand the central purport of the learning of nature and life. What, after all, is meant by “hooking it out and lifting it in the hand”? Nature can be discerned, yet it cannot be clutched; life can manifest, yet it cannot be seized. Both are utterly empty and still, without any concrete form. Nature and life alike dwell in emptiness and stillness, and yet they are vividly alive—the ancient Jing (scriptures/classics) have already spoken of this. How can one say that they are hooked out of the vulgar body of the Western Maiden and lifted up by hand? Is this not treating gui-water (a technical term of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), often referring to the Yin Jing (essence) associated with kidney water) as something that can be manipulated by the hands? An alchemical text says: “See it, and you cannot put it to use; put it to use, and you cannot see it.” Fan ought to know this saying as well; how could he utter such an amateur’s remark? Moreover, the one of Kan within Kun (the true Yang Qi of the Kan trigram contained within the Kun trigram) still belongs to the true primordial endowment—what has it to do with nature? What, in the end, does he take “nature” to be?

This section is directed at the problem of misdirected cultivation in the previous section, and the next section is the same. The point of the present section lies in “lying stored and hidden”; the next section then unfolds by taking up the closing sentence of this one. In tracing cultivation back to its root, the key lies in illuminating the mind; only when the mind is clear can one discern the moment.

Fire arises from the root; once calamity breaks out, it will surely overcome and injure oneself. Treachery breeds within the state; once the moment is set in motion, the state must collapse. One who understands these principles and cultivates by them is called a sage.

Fan says: The opening two lines mean that if a person lacks firm, single-minded observance of the precepts and the power of meditative stability, that person will be driven by the cognitive spirit (delusive thoughts and the discriminating mind) into rash and reckless action; once original authenticity is lost, one becomes like wood that has been burned by fire, reduced to something dead and decayed. The middle two lines carry a double meaning: they may be understood by extending the sense of the two lines above, or they may be explained as “three women make treachery.” Because life is brought forth by one’s own activity, I make use of that activity to scatter the mind and Shen (spirit); when Heaven and the human being resonate with each other and are stirred into motion together, one employs one’s own natural killing impulse (the power that brings things to their end) so as to return the post-heaven to the pre-heaven. One who knows how to cultivate by applying this character zhi (“know”) may be called a person who accomplishes the work of the sage. As for the character sheng (“sage”), Fan holds that the “mouth” within it belongs to Kan and the “ear” to Li, referring to the union of Kan and Li, through which one obtains the single Qi (vital energy) within them, returns it to the Central Earth (the middle of the body, the seat of the spleen and stomach), and has it occupy the ruling position. This character sheng, please do not overlook.

Yide says: Fan’s annotation is a grave error and cannot be accepted. It is not only the explanation of the character zhi that is mistaken; the explanation of the character sheng likewise does not accord with the meaning of the character. The standard form of the character sheng is originally constituted by precisely this graphic form. Please do not overlook this.

Yide holds that Fan’s commentary is gravely mistaken and cannot be adopted. The explanation of the character zhi (“知,” knowing) is wrong, and the interpretation of sheng (“圣,” sagely) does not accord with the character’s meaning. The standard form of sheng takes the component ren (“壬”), not wang (“王”).

This book takes knowing as its foundation and cultivation as its application. Read together with what precedes and what follows, the essential point of this section lies in knowing: there must first be understanding, and only afterward can there be cultivation; if one does not know, how can one speak of cultivating? What is called cultivation means setting to work before the critical juncture of change between movement and stillness has yet appeared. Only by first recognizing the subtle signs can one respond in time. The emphasis of this section therefore rests on the character zhi. It is enough to explain it according to the plain sense of the words; there is no need to seek some further hidden meaning in the graphic form.

The general sense of this passage is that the circulation of the Qi (vital energy) of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) must not be left unchecked and without restraint. This takes up the preceding text and reminds the reader not to forget the warning contained in the character sha (“杀,” killing). The first two lines say that a mechanism of destruction lies latent within generation; the middle two say that ease and comfort must not be coveted; the last two set forth the subtle excellence of knowing and cultivation. Explained directly according to the sense of the text: when generation and flourishing go to excess, the mechanism of destruction is set in motion; the misfortune that harms oneself generally comes from within, not from outside. Fire is the Qi born from within Wood; once the force of fire breaks forth, Wood is burned away. The treacherous arise from within the state; once treachery rises, the state falls to ruin. Such misfortunes are often more than one can guard against; once the momentum is released, it is too late to recover. Whence does this momentum come? When generation and flourishing go to excess without restraint, disorder and treachery are brewed; therefore the sage gives warning of it. Governing the state and cultivating oneself are not different in principle — this is the original meaning of the present scripture. Fan’s account is strained and absurd; to call it “the sagely work” is truly to misrepresent the sage.

As for explaining zhi by dividing it into shi (“矢,” arrow) and kou (“口,” mouth), the anciently transmitted Sanhuang Yujue (Jade Formula of the Three Sovereigns) does indeed provide a basis. What Fan employs, however, is an oral formula current in recent times. He does not know that the realm described in the Yujue is solemn and upright: even when one stands upon the great Dao (the Way), or in the midst of a broad courtyard, there is still the function of “arrow and mouth”; even without loosening one’s robe or untying one’s sash, and even without seeing one another, one is not hindered by nearness or distance. Mountains, rivers, and the great earth are all places that shelter and uphold the cauldron-vessel; every living being is nothing other than the medicinal substance.

The practitioner should empty away the marks of form and color, still thought and deliberation, and preserve only the one Qi — the primordial Qi spoken of in Daoism — letting it be boundless and without limit, and should regard the four quarters of heaven and earth, together with the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, as no more than a single grain of millet. At this point an inner radiance shines forth, as though appearing through sympathetic response, its light straight as an arrow. One then beholds the holy sun and the holy moon, golden light shining, five-colored auspicious clouds floating through the void and coming swift as the wind, obstructed by nothing. Sun and moon then join as a single disk, suspended in one’s own Golden Court — an important site in internal cultivation — gradually drawing near and contracting until it is as small as a bean, like the glazed lamp before the Buddha; yet within it is so vast that nothing is not contained, and so fine that nothing is not received. This is what is called the realm.

At this time not a single thought arises in the mind. At the very beginning there must be something that emerges out of emptiness, so that one feels the heart filled with every kind of harmonious and peaceful savor — something that can only be experienced and is hard to put into words. The Three Sages call this the True Origin reaching its utmost, yet it is still not the True One. When the True One arrives, it too enters in a flash, without sound or visible form; one only feels the heart to be utterly settled, steady as a great rock, yet this cannot be described in words. The True Origin and the True One are like an arrow striking the center of the target: this is the meaning of shi, and it is what Buddhism calls Mouni Ali.

The kou here refers to the mysterious aperture spoken of in Daoism, which is the “marvelous vessel” mentioned in the final section of this scripture. To break open this pass with a single blow is what Buddhism calls the other shore and what the Confucians call Wuji (the Limitless).

In former times, when the Tathagata expounded the teaching in that land, five thousand disciples followed and studied with him. Amid the silent precious light, the assembly saw a ray of light enter straight into the Buddha’s bosom; the Buddha seemed to awaken as though from deep intoxication, and from this arose the saying of the “five thousand withdrawing from their seats.” Yide holds that this means the disciples mistakenly thought the Buddha was weary and so left their seats and departed; it may also serve as supporting evidence for the doctrine of “arrow and mouth.” Fan had never heard of this.

As for the character gu (“故”) in the scripture, one need not understand it by relying on the oral formula of character-splitting; even if it is explained by dividing the character, it still has a proper and legitimate sense of its own. It speaks of a tendency in which ornament and embellishment have grown excessive, at which time one ought to return to ancient simplicity. This is precisely the meaning of Laozi’s “letting the mind wander at the beginning of things.” How can one appeal to the cultivation practices of the Sanfeng school to prove it?

The several hundred characters above have already fully revealed the great Dao (the Way) of the celestial immortal—the fundamental principles of cultivating immortality. One ought not, strictly speaking, to have written so plainly here; yet since the crucial point has already been disclosed, one should trace the matter back to its root. This is precisely what Laozi meant by “letting the mind roam at the beginning of things” (the mind and Shen (spirit) discerning the source before the myriad things have taken form). How, then, could the cultivation methods of the Sanfeng school be cited as proof?

The several hundred characters above have already said all there is to say of the great Dao of the celestial immortal. One ought not to have spoken outright here; only because the crucial point has already been laid bare does one now set the whole matter forth—otherwise the essential meaning of the character zhi (“knowing”) could not be brought to light. It is not that one begins to use the character zhi only upon reaching this stage of cultivation. In the doctrinal sense of the scripture, the character zhi is already contained within the two lines “Heaven and the human issue together”; the reader should ponder this carefully.

Middle Chapter

The Dao of Heaven causes the myriad things to grow and also causes them to perish; this is the pattern of the Dao.

Fan says: Heaven’s giving of life is the constant Dao moving with the flow; Heaven’s killing is the reverse course that returns to the great Dao. Now, taking a body that follows the constant Dao in its natural forward course, one cultivates the subtle practice by which the reversed Dao turns back of itself; hence this is called “Heaven gives life and Heaven kills.” Only by applying this marvelous principle of reversal and return, of inversion and transformation, can one speak of the great Dao of becoming a sage and ascending to the True.

Yide says: This section continues the meaning and thread of the previous chapter’s passage on “Heaven releases the mechanism of killing.” If the Five Phases (Wuxing; the five fundamental forces that constitute and set the myriad things in motion) lacked the “mechanism of killing,” the movement of the four seasons would lose its regulation, and the pattern of cyclical transformation could not be established. Within perishing, new life is contained; new life is likewise stored within perishing. Only thus can transformation alternate in due order and continue without end.

Heaven and Earth draw upon the myriad things; the myriad things draw upon human beings; and human beings in turn draw upon the myriad things. When these three relations of drawing upon—among Heaven and Earth, the myriad things, and human beings—each attain what is fitting, the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity (Sancai; Heaven, Earth, and the human) can be at peace.

Fan says: The flourishing and decline of the myriad things change with the movements of Heaven and Earth, so Heaven and Earth may be called the power that draws upon the myriad things. If a person cannot hold fast to himself, his true nature is worn away by the myriad things, and so the myriad things may also be called the power that depletes the person. If a person can guard himself and not let his true nature drain away, he can draw upon what is essential in the myriad things, and so the person may in turn be called the power that draws upon the myriad things. Only after three such operations is a single line (yao) formed; only after nine is the hexagram Qian completed. As for the sequence indicated here, one need only harmonize it fittingly according to oral instruction and personal guidance, and then all three lines can rest as secure and free of danger as a woman.

Yide says: Older commentaries explain the sentence as “Heaven and Earth are the power drawn upon by the myriad things; the myriad things are the power drawn upon by human beings; and human beings are again the power drawn upon by the myriad things.” This is the most direct reading. On careful examination, I find that the meaning of the scripture continues from what precedes and brings out the subtle principle of the first section of this text, taking the Three Powers (sancai)—Heaven, Earth, and humankind—as a figure for the three fields (santian), the regions in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy) where Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) circulate and are condensed and refined. In cultivation one must draw upon them in due measure and not go against nature, so that each has a place to which it returns and rests as properly as offerings set in place upon an altar, and thus the Dao (the Way) of the Three Powers is made secure. For the explanation of the character dao (盗), see the preceding discussion.

Taixu Weng (the Elder of the Great Void) says that the “marvelous vessels” (qiqi) spoken of in the lower section are what each of the myriad things possesses in itself, and that they are therefore able to draw upon one another. To grasp fully the subtlety of the character dao, one must receive it through oral transmission and mind-to-mind instruction; yet the general sense is nothing more than outward humility, plainness, and emptiness and stillness, so that the myriad things may be settled—the key lying in the single word he (harmony). What Fan calls “as secure as a woman” is another way of putting it. The phrase “both fitting and settled” most likely means that the three fields should all be full and abundant. What fills each of the three fields has its corresponding substance, and reaching abundance step by step also follows a definite order: only when Jing is sufficient is Qi sufficient; only when Qi is sufficient is Shen sufficient; and only when Shen is sufficient is Jing truly complete. There is, moreover, a set of methods of cultivation here. The essential point of this section lies in just this. The meaning of the secret of settling the Three Powers will be explained in the next section.

Thus, cultivation follows a definite sequence: when Jing (essence) is abundant, Qi (vital energy) becomes abundant; when Qi is abundant, Shen (spirit) becomes abundant; and when Shen is abundant, Jing is in turn truly replete. This, too, is a way of cultivation. The essential point of this section lies here: it is the secret for settling the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, and its meaning will be unfolded in the next section.

Hence it is said: “Eat in accordance with the proper moment, and the hundred bones of the whole body will be harmonized; set the crucial mechanism in motion, and the transformations of the myriad things can be settled.”

Master Fan explains that the character gu (“therefore”) carries on the character an (“settled”) from the text above. He decomposes an into the graph for “ten” placed inside the graph for “mouth,” as a means of returning to the “True One” (zhenyi) within the mouth—the original, authentic Qi referred to in Neidan (internal alchemy). The “eating” spoken of here is the ingestion of the “Great Medicine” (dayao), the Jing and Qi refined in Neidan, which is what the earlier text means by “one who obtains it is often as if intoxicated.”

Ingestion, however, must wait until the moment arrives. When the moment comes, signs of activation will certainly appear; these signs are the indications that the crucial mechanism has been set in motion. This is precisely the time for ingestion, which is the sense of the saying “human beings are the thieves of the myriad things”: a person can seize the timing of the transformations of the myriad things and so cultivate. Once one possesses “hare marrow and crow essence” (a cultivation term in the scripture, referring to the Jing and Qi of Yin-Yang), the moment the practitioner ingests it, the hundred bones of the whole body all become open and harmonized. For turbid Yin to withdraw and turn into pure Yang, one must take as the foundation the daily practice of circulating the Celestial Circuit (zhoutian)—a Neidan term for moving the Jing and Qi in the body according to the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang—by “withdrawing the Yin talisman and advancing the Yang fire.” Through repeated refining, Jing, Qi, and Shen are gradually transformed, and so a single ingestion can settle one in that transformation. How, then, could the “myriad transformations” spoken of here ever be settled apart from “nü” (the original wording, whose referent is unclear)?

Yide says: Only by not letting the timing slip away can one afterward take hold of the timing; only by not going against the mechanism can one afterward follow the momentum and set its working in motion. The two characters “故曰” (guyue, “hence it is said”) conceal a subtle meaning, which can also be seen in the Sanhuang Yujue (a Daoist text traditionally handed down as a cultivation formula of high antiquity). The crux of the formula lies solely in returning, yet it must not be explained as going back to the first beginning of remote antiquity or reverting to one’s original life-mandate. The secret of reaching single-minded concentration perhaps lies in the character “曰” (yue, “says”). Within the character “曰” there is contained a “一” (yi, “one”).

Set down every kind of clinging, and draw the mind back into one’s own person and the circumstances of one’s life. At this time the inner realm is vast without bound, and one lets the activity of Qi (vital energy) move of itself, like cloud and vapor. The secret of single-minded concentration perhaps lies in the character “曰”. Within the character “曰” there is contained a “一”. Set down every kind of clinging, and draw the mind back into one’s own person and the circumstances of one’s life. At this time the inner realm is vast without bound, and one lets the activity of Qi flow like colored clouds; suddenly every sound ceases, and inner and outer grow settled. One then concentrates and stabilizes it with intention, and one only senses the activity of Qi welling forth of itself, still and soundless. The Three Sages call this the return of “真一” (Zhenyi, “the True One,” the name in Daoist cultivation for the authentic, purely unified state). This is the mysterious appearance symbolized by the character “曰”; the so-called “image that has no image” is precisely this. If one clings to a concrete form, what is gained is surely not genuine; if one begins from emptiness and nonbeing, then both timing and mechanism can accord with the Dao (the Way).

What Fan sets forth was originally a formula by which the ancient immortals used external things to explain the inner work; yet when he says, “How could one find peace by leaving the woman?” he falls into heterodox teaching. If one examines such ancient characters as “知” (zhi, “to know”), “故” (gu, “hence”), “曰” (yue, “says”), “虞” (yu, “to anticipate”), and “圣” (sheng, “sage”), all of them take the discernment of timing as essential. Fan, however, knows only how to cling rigidly to the use of one particular moment, and does not know that it may be applied at every moment. What is called “time” has two modes, the fixed and the flexible. It is not only the zi hour and the wu hour that are distinguished as fixed and flexible; from the zi hour to the hai hour, every double-hour has both a fixed and a flexible use.

What are called “真一” and “真元” (Zhenyuan, “the true origin,” the Qi of original authenticity) neither leave the human body nor may be confined to the body. Broadly speaking, when one begins the practice, one should discern the timing according to the situation in which one presently finds oneself. This method is the most flexible, and also the most effective. As regards the individual body, timing has fixed and flexible modes; from the standpoint of the “三才六合” (sancai liuhe, the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, together with the integral relation of Heaven, Earth, and the four directions), timing likewise has fixed and flexible modes. They respond to one another: fixed timing corresponds to fixed transformation, and flexible timing corresponds to flexible transformation, so subtle that there is almost no gap. Thus the mechanism is contained within the timing: as soon as the moment arrives, the mechanism is set in motion; once the mechanism is set in motion, transformation proceeds along with it. This is the wondrous principle of the natural, the great Dao of the natural. Fan does nothing more than sit upright and observe the celestial phenomena.

People know why the wondrous is wondrous, yet they do not know that what seems not wondrous at all is precisely the root from which the wondrous is able to appear.

Fan says: “Shen” (spirit) refers to yang Qi (vital energy), and “the Shen of Shen” refers to the still finer yang Qi within yang Qi, that is, what is called “mystery upon mystery.” This true yang lies hidden within true yin, and the key to obtaining it is “knowing.” Fan takes the character zhi 知 apart into shi 矢 (“arrow”) and kou 口 (“mouth”), using this to explain the “mouth-to-mouth” numinous function of which Patriarch Lü speaks. Yet the working by which true yang is obtained never leaves ordinary, everyday affairs, and there is not the slightest deliberate contrivance: it appears to be Wuwei (non-action), and yet something is done; within that doing, Wuwei is again contained. Thus, what is called “knowing why that which seems not wondrous is wondrous” refers exactly to this principle. One must also know that drawing upon this yang Qi requires the aid of specific implements, together with the method of “the Shen that is not Shen.” The moment the yang Qi arrives is precisely the primordial Qi from before father and mother were born.

Yide says: Fan did not grasp the true transmission of these two instances of “knowing,” and so his account fell into heterodox doctrine; he had never heard that within emptiness there exists the wondrous meaning of mutual resonance. The opening line of this section refers to the primordial Qi from before things and the self had yet been distinguished.

Yide says: The word “know” appears twice. Fan did not grasp the true transmission and therefore fell into an erroneous explanation, most likely because he did not understand the mystery of the mutual resonance of the Qi-mechanism within the void. The former sentence means that external things and one’s own Qi (vital energy) and Shen (spirit) resonate with one another within the void, and from this the true primordial is produced. The latter sentence means that the true primordial Qi of the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—rises and spreads upward, resonating with one’s own Qi and Shen; one’s own Qi and Shen ascend in response and coalesce, and the two then merge within the void to produce the True One.

Carefully following the sense of the scripture (Jing), what is generated when the Qi-mechanism of external things and that of oneself mutually resonate and unite is only the true primordial. It is therefore called “the Shen of Shen,” and is not precious enough to be prized. Only if one can cause the Qi and Shen of both sides to rise and commune with the two great Qi of Heaven and Earth, so that the human primordial descends and conjoins, is what takes form within the void the True One. Only when it is obtained is the embryo of the sacred and the true formed, and it becomes the supreme treasure. Because Shen meets Shen, it is called “the Shen of Shen”; as for the “One” born in that union, it has already reached the realm of the utmost void and can no longer be named “Shen,” and is therefore called “the Shen that is not Shen.” The sense of the original text rests on the latter sentence, which is why a distinction is drawn between “knowing” and “not knowing.”

The movements of the sun and the moon each follow their own regular course, and the greater and the lesser each have their fixed measure; from this, efficacy arises, and numinous illumination manifests in turn.

Fan says: The sun is a Yang body and belongs to the Li trigram of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams); it is the lesser within Yin. The moon has a luminous body and belongs to the Kan trigram; it is the greater within Yang.

The movements of the sun and the moon each follow their own regular course, and the greater and the lesser each have their fixed measure; from this, efficacy arises, and numinous illumination manifests in turn.

Fan says: the sun belongs to Yang and takes the Li hexagram as its basis, so its Yin Qi (vital energy) is relatively slight; the moon, though bright, takes the Kan hexagram as its basis, so its Yang Qi is comparatively abundant. Sun and moon each have a fixed number: the solar number must reach sixteen, and the lunar number must reach five thousand and forty-eight days. To take these words as the degrees of the sun and moon’s motion in the sky would be a mistake.

What is called “three before and three after” means that Jia stands together with Geng, and Ding joins with Ren. Take the forming of the first line of the Qian hexagram as an example. First, from the position of Jia, count three places forward in reverse order and set it beside the Ren that follows Gui; then, from the position of Geng, count three places backward in regular order and join it with the corresponding Ren. Next, again from the position of Jia, count three places forward in reverse order and set it beside the Ren that precedes Gui; finally, once more from the position of Jia, count three places forward in reverse order and set it beside the Ren that follows Gui. This is the oral formula of “three before and three after” spoken of as “after the front quarter and before the rear quarter.” Here “quarter” means the first and last quarters in the changing phases of the moon.

Three such joinings form the first line of the Qian hexagram; nine joinings by the same method form its three lines and reach the state of pure Yang. One must wait until the numbers of sun and moon are complete, and only then, by this means, accomplish the work of cultivation, so that the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) gather in the Central Palace (the center of inner cultivation of body and mind). Only then can the spiritually luminous person come into being and appear. This coming into being is not something that occurs of itself merely because sun and moon conjoin; this is precisely the principle that what seems to be Wuwei (non-action) can nevertheless give rise to marvelous efficacy.

The key formulas in the text—“three before and three after,” “front quarter and rear quarter,” and those of Jia, Geng, Ding, and Ren—are the “fire tally” (the rule in Neidan, or internal alchemy, for regulating the firing schedule and the course of the process). When the numbers of sun and moon are complete, the number of the fire tally is likewise in place. When the mechanism of cultivation becomes manifest, one can grasp the marvel within it. What Patriarch Lü calls “pointing afar to the wheels of sun and moon at heaven’s edge,” and “the sea tide beneath the earth, the moon in heaven above,” and what Cui Xifan calls “Heaven answers to the stars, Earth answers to the tides,” all speak of what corresponds to this. Fan holds that this is the essential key to accomplishing the sagely Way according to the Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman), and the profound meaning secretly transmitted through the ages.

Yide says that “sun and moon” are reckoned by means of geng and jia, and “great and small” by means of Yin-Yang (yinyang). This is precisely the principle of the Yi (Classic of Changes), and Fan’s explanation is correct.

I cautiously hold that this section clarifies the sense of the phrase “people know” in the passage above. What it actually presents is an oral formula of the mind-method handed down from antiquity, yet the scripture says that everyone knows it. Presumably, in the age of the Yellow Emperor many people cultivated the Dao, and scriptural meanings of this kind were commonly understood at the time; hence it says, “People know that within the wondrous there is a principle still more wondrous.” Fan did not grasp this point. He took the section to be something kept secret and not transmitted, and therefore explained “people know” as “not knowing that within the wondrous there is a principle still more wondrous.” He had never heard of the highest method of cultivation in the Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman).

The method described in this section still follows the regularities of Yin and Yang. It attends to the firing process (huohou) at the moment when the opportune time is set in motion—that is, to the practitioner’s grasp of timing and inner change during cultivation. It has not yet spoken of the realm of cultivation in which Heaven and Earth, the four directions, and the Three Powers (sancai: Heaven, Earth, and humanity) resonate with one another, intermingle, and thereby give rise to transformation. Even so, sagely achievement already begins from here, and spiritual illumination likewise appears from here.

The former teacher, Venerable Taixu, therefore said that this section continues directly from the opening sentence of the text above. Cultivation of the highest order, by contrast, takes its stand before Heaven and Earth have taken form and before one’s parents have given birth, and so it does not employ the methods of Yin-Yang, the Five Phases (wuxing: Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water), or the year, month, day, and hour. When the opportune condition of cultivation is set in motion, one restrains passion and desire, returns to original nature, condenses a precious pearl, and draws it into the “marvelous vessel” (qiqi: a special inner organ or locus in cultivation). Accumulating day by day and month by month, one ultimately becomes one with the original reality of the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—and condenses the “sacred embryo” (shengtai: a symbol of the Neidan, or internal alchemy, achieved through cultivation). On reaching this realm, even if the Three Powers are destroyed, one can oneself still endure. This is an esoteric oral formula of cultivation from the age of the Three Sovereigns; it is not yet a secret method that ordinary cultivators of the Yellow Emperor’s age could know. The “not knowing” spoken of later in the text above refers precisely to this level of meaning.

“Star” is a method that advances one step further at the top of a hundred-foot pole. It contains the wondrous Dao by which, in whatever circumstances one may be, one can reach through to the end and bring all under Heaven back to humaneness and harmony. All of this Yide heard from his former teacher.

The former teacher also said, however, that the profound principle of this section is likewise the foundation of cultivating the self and establishing one’s destiny.

The former master further said that the profound principle set forth in this section is the foundation of cultivating the self and establishing one’s destiny. If it is forgotten, cultivation at the highest level cannot continue to advance; how, then, could one forget it even for a moment?

“Stealing the heavenly mechanism” is something that people throughout the world neither see nor understand. When the superior person grasps it, he uses it to secure himself; when the petty person grasps it, he slights nature and life.

Fan explains that “stealing” is the Dao (the Way). The efficacy of cultivation depends on observing the mechanism and putting it into practice when the moment is seized. He speaks of the “premature death” of two persons, and of the true Yang of “one seven” and “the next seven”: the former cannot be seen with the eyes, while the latter can be obtained only through an oral formula. The superior person knows that if each of the two persons is to return his own spark of true Yang, the method of the “cross, the large mouth, and the small mouth” must be used; only then can one secure oneself and endure. The petty person cannot hold to himself. Relying on his talent, he forgets cultivation, slips into a deviant path, and loses nature and life without awakening—hence it is said that he “slights life.” This passage shows that following the correct path or a deviant path brings different consequences, fortunate or unfortunate.

Yide explains that “it” here refers to the Dao spoken of in the previous section. “Stealing” means secretly taking something and storing it away; “mechanism” is the pivotal moment at which things set one another in motion and transform. If it is not stored, what has been gained will dissipate, so one must understand “stealing.” Because this mechanism is not easily seen or known by people, it is called “stealing the mechanism.”

Cultivation, however, values maintaining a mind that is universal and impartial, and not allowing any one aspect to predominate. Within this there are two layers of meaning: “taking” and “giving.” Those who understand this principle are superior persons; those who do not are petty persons. This also concerns the Mandate of Heaven. In observing and seizing Heaven’s timing, how could one neglect “stealing the mechanism”? Only by according with the Dao of Heaven can one secure oneself; if one steals while harboring selfish intent, one will instead hold nature and life cheap. What “gaining” specifically refers to must be understood from this principle of taking and giving.

Yide further holds that what this section discusses is still only a preliminary method of cultivation, which is why it specially warns people. Fan did not see this level, and so his explanation falls into the manner of slighting nature and life and cannot be accepted.

Lower Section

The deaf are skilled at seeing, and the blind are skilled at hearing. Cut off dependence on the advantage of one sense, concentrate one’s energies upon a single source, and employ…

Supplementary note on Fan’s commentary: “Fan did not see as far as this; therefore his interpretation falls into the company of those who slight life, and is not to be followed.” The meaning is: Fan did not understand this level, and therefore his explanation falls into the discourse of slighting nature and life and cannot be accepted.

Those who cannot hear are, by contrast, skilled at observing; those who cannot see are, by contrast, skilled at listening. Cut off the path by which benefit is drawn from a single source, and its application can surpass tenfold; cultivate in reciprocal cycles three times through day and night, and its application can surpass ten-thousandfold.

Fan says: These lines concern the critical moment in cultivation when one must employ the “mouth,” and one should concentrate then as the deaf are skilled at observing and the blind are skilled at listening. Both layers of meaning in the word “skilled” lie in single-minded focus; they also imply a state in which, although the mouth is employed, the mind does not cling to the mouth. One should know that in cultivation the use of “stealing the mechanism” (daoji)—borrowing the generative pivot of Heaven and Earth—cannot be separated from the mouth. The various benefits represented by silk, sensual allure, and the like all issue from one and the same source, and among them the path of the mouth is the most crucial to employ. One therefore first uses the ears and eyes to seize the opportune moment, and only after that moment has been grasped does one employ the mouth; once the mouth is employed, the work must further be completed by means of the number “ten.”

If, relying on “ten,” one returns three times to the source, it is like commanding troops on a steep and arduous march. This is precisely “planting lotuses in the fire”—cultivating amid hardship—and one can indeed reap a ten-thousandfold harvest. Only when the ears, eyes, and mouth remain unceasingly focused on the opportune moment from morning till night can one obtain the benefit of stealing the mechanism and bring forth the use of the “mechanism-mind” (jixin) spoken of below. The character “fold” has a further subtle meaning that I dare not write out; please do not overlook this point.

Yide holds that the opening and middle sections set forth the principles one ought to follow, and also speak of the advantages and disadvantages involved in them; the final section sets forth methods of cultivation, and these methods likewise contain principles within them. Once one knows how to choose and set aside, and how to add and diminish, among them, the method may be regarded as complete.

Taken as a whole, the essentials of cultivation lie in single-minded concentration and in reaching a state of utmost stillness and utmost emptiness, so that the mind retains no distinction between self and others, all is left to what is natural and spontaneous, and being and non-being are regarded through the dynamic of Qi (vital energy). Within, the mind is ever still and undisturbed, yet one does not cling to the very thought of “stillness”; then, in action, one can respond as affairs require, and at rest, one can abide peacefully without stirring.

I examine this section with care: the first two sentences speak of “concentration,” and the third of “oneness.” The eyes are adept at seeing and the ears at hearing; even if, like the deaf and the blind, one remains untouched by the distractions of sound and sight, one can still gather the mind and Shen (spirit) into a single place. The fourth sentence brings together the meaning of “augmentation,” and corroboration of this may be found here.

The phrase “attaining the three returns” speaks of “constancy,” that is, persistence without cease. “Shi” refers to the multitude. The image of the Shi hexagram in the Classic of Changes carries the sense of gathering and nourishing the many; what is meant here is that even amid a crowd one can turn toward humaneness and De (Virtue/Power) and find the source of the great Dao (the Way). “Three returns of day and night” refers to thirty-six double-hours. Thirty-six is the limit of Yin numbers, meaning that if one can remain single-minded and enduring, Yin will be entirely transformed into Yang (Yin-Yang), and all thirty-six palaces will be filled with the breath of spring.

“Tenfold” and “ten-thousandfold” are only approximate ways of speaking: through single-minded concentration one can set a host of powers in motion; through steadfast perseverance one can cause the powers thus mobilized to multiply many times over.

The character “倍” can be taken apart and examined. It contains the interplay among Yin, Yang, the gate, Earth, and Heaven, and it must be considered together with the character “十.” The character “万” can be divided into the two parts “艹” and “禺”: “艹” belongs to the Qi (vital energy) of Kun, while “禺” belongs to the Yin category. This follows Fan’s explanation. In principle, using the character “倍” to account for these operations is more appropriate than the explanation Fan adopted.

According to the correct meaning of this passage, however, the Dao (the Way) is not something that can be cultivated only in solitude. If the student follows the orthodox tradition of this scripture, then even when cultivating alone in a single room, one can resonate with the Supreme True One and the True Yuan, the true primordial source, in the void, gather and refine them inexhaustibly, and ultimately obtain a tenfold and ten-thousandfold harvest. The correct meaning of the scripture does not lie in taking characters apart. Looked at closely, this section speaks of the way of establishing life (ming), yet its wording rests especially on nature (xing), because the fulfillment of life lies in nature. If the student reflects on this attentively, one will know how effort ought to be applied.

The heart-mind (xin) arises because of external things, and it also dies because of external things; the key lies in the eyes.

Fan Min says: When the heart-mind is drawn along by external things, it becomes their tool. In this way, although the heart-mind arises, it also hastens its own demise. If the heart-mind is not drawn along by external things but is instead able to make use of them, then even though it seems utterly still and unmoving, it can thereby gain vitality. This is the meaning of “neither dying nor being born, neither being born nor dying.” Whether things tend toward life or toward death is judged by observing their changes through the eyes, and this observation is an important path in cultivating the Dao. Although the heart-mind observes by means of the eyes, in cultivation one must learn to remain undisturbed by external things, like a dead person. This is the most important point.

Yide says: To be drawn by external things so that emotion is stirred is “the heart-mind born of things.” To be driven by external things so that the spirit is depleted, and through that depletion to decline, is “the heart-mind dying in things.” That the heart-mind can remain unmoved in the face of external things is the most important point of cultivation.

Yide says: When a person’s feelings are stirred by external things, attachment to those things arises. Driven by external things, the spirit (Shen) is depleted; when that depletion reaches a certain point, one declines. This is to be trapped by external things and to move toward “death.” The human mind manifests the changes of life and death through external things, yet fundamentally the mind originally has neither life nor death. When one is being drawn by external things and thoughts are just beginning to arise, if one can promptly become aware and contemplate, one will not fall into the declining turn of the mechanism. This turn can be perceived only by the “eye.”

The “eye” spoken of here is the celestial eye (Tianmu, the inner eye of contemplation in Daoism), located between the two eyebrows; it is not the physical eye. It is the place on which True Unity (Zhenyi, the inner, purely unitary nature and ruling principle) relies and through which it observes. When one contemplates the turns of the mechanism with the celestial eye, although their threads are countless and their changes hard to fathom, one can still see the first signs and discern the connecting lines, so that those turns have nowhere to hide. Thus the function of the “eye” is very great.

Therefore the scripture (Jing) says, “The mind is born because of external things, and also dies because of external things,” and again, “The mechanism lies in the eye.” This reminds one that True Unity should be taken as the inner ruling principle. Whether contemplation can be well employed depends on the one mind; hence what is valued is clarity of mind. Only when the mind is clear can one see nature (recognize original nature). Throughout cultivation and study, clarifying the mind should remain essential. The “eye” here is the core of the phrase “about to contemplate” in the preceding section. The sage employs contemplation in order to clarify the mind; the deeper meaning lies beyond the words. If one carefully examines the scripture before and after, the purport becomes apparent. The passage repeated later has the same meaning.

Where the world seems to offer no favor, great favor instead arises. Wherever sudden thunder and fierce wind reach, the myriad things are without exception shaken. “Utmost joy” makes nature abundant and more than sufficient; “utmost stillness” makes nature pure, upright, and incorrupt. That which is most private in the world and deeply hidden within, when put to use, can attain the greatest impartiality.

Fan explains that the phrase “the two persons are not separated by any interval” does not refer to being entangled by worldly emotions. It means, rather, the complete absence of any function of according with the constant Dao (the Way) and of letting things arise naturally of themselves; this is what is called “without kindness” (wu’en). When the time ripens and the crucial opportunity appears, the Great Medicine—the congealed substance of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) spoken of in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy)—is born. One must then clearly distinguish Ren and Gui (names of the heavenly stems, used here to indicate Yin-Yang or the Qi of Water) and bring Geng and Jia (names of the heavenly stems, used here to indicate the Qi of Metal and Wood) into union. Swallowed into the belly, this can revert to the body of Qian (symbolizing the state of pure Yang), and longevity is thereby obtained. Is this not a great kindness?

Yet the union of the two Qi of Metal and Wood lasts only for an instant as violent as a fierce wind. Add to this a shock striking one full upon the head, and the process suddenly sets itself in motion, so that a person at once breaks free of delusion and the innate heavenly authenticity originally possessed stands revealed. All of this depends on that single marvelous strike. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) therefore says, “Within the sound of the thunderclap, one obtains the root of oneself,” which may serve as corroboration.

From birth a person possesses a small Earth of a single si (厶, borrowed here to mean private intent or the Qi of the individual), and this strikes forth a single thread of the white-Metal Qi of the Dui trigram (symbolizing the marsh, the youngest daughter, and the like). Though what is taken in is slight, it is enough to fill the six directions (heaven, earth, and the four quarters). This small Earth is originally clear and still; after receiving a single drop of Qingyang (symbolizing the Yang Qi of generative growth), it congeals, settles, and does not move, nor does it rise in contention. Minute though it is, the workings of “the two persons” and of “the single si-Earth” originally belong to an invisible operation carried on in private. A single shock in the Great Void, however, returns it to original authenticity and again manifests its working within self and other and within the single si-Earth; for this reason it is also called “the public” (gong).

Here, the phrase “these are the four characters of arrival” speaks of nothing other than the intent of returning to the center and guarding the center.

Yide says: “Supreme joy” is the expression of original nature when it is aroused, while other superfluous emotions spill outward; “supreme stillness” is the settled state of original nature, while austerity and restraint draw inward. Thunder and rain are grand in sound and force, filling heaven and earth, and therefore give rise to corresponding feelings; sudden thunder and fierce wind shake people into wakeful vigilance, and so one ought to cast off the faults of extravagance and indulgence. “There is nothing among the myriad things that does not stir into teeming motion” means that the working of heaven and earth extends to all things alike; only one who cultivates the Dao (the Way) can draw benefit from wind and thunder, and this alone is the special opportunity of receiving Heaven’s grace for oneself. The profound principle set out in this section is roughly thus.

Among the resonances brought by sound, none is stronger than wind and thunder, and so this section continues the sense of “skillful hearing” in the text above; the preceding section continues “skillful seeing,” and the two sections concern the acuity of sight and hearing. Only when one can adapt to changing circumstances without remaining caught in any particular form or trace can one then speak of the function of “subduing birds” in the next section. Fan’s explanation also has its merits, but one can only grasp its meaning and practice it in a state of emptiness and stillness; the moment one clings to concrete forms and traces, it no longer accords with the Great Dao.

The key to subduing birds lies in Qi (炁, vital energy), the energy of life as Daoism understands it.

Fan says: This passage speaks specifically of zhui (隹, a character in the ancient script related to “birds”), precisely in order to explain the wondrous function that arises when Heaven and human beings stir one another into mutual response. What is employed here is zhui, not the physical form of a bird; a crane, for example, can resonate with a person through its call. The zhui spoken of here is not some bird-shaped thing within the body. If one does not rely on the power of cultivation to subdue it, it will not come; and if the Ren and Du vessels in the practitioner’s body are not open, so that the pathways of Qi’s rising and falling are obstructed, then even if one obtains it, one will lose it, and will be unable to draw it in, hold it, and store it away.

What is called zhui is Yang Qi. When a person obtains Yang Qi, that person lives; when Yang Qi is lost, that person dies. Human beings stand between the two possibilities of becoming immortals and becoming ghosts. Cultivating this method is precisely in order to remove Yin Qi and increase Yang Qi. Yet a person’s Shen (spirit) is easily bewildered by a profusion of splendid things, and Qi is likewise depleted through craving and desire. If one does not avail oneself of this wondrous method of meeting the occasion as it arises and resonating by means of zhui, how can one return to the original source?

Yide holds that Fan’s explanation of this section truly deserves to be called a “profound interpretation,” with almost nothing left out. Unfortunately, when he explained the character guan in the previous section, he did not analyze its graphic structure according to the Hongwu Zhengyun, and so mistook it for a “close-fitting” form, which led him to speak of such things as “placing two mouths above the fine flower.” If one analyzes it from the character zhui, the intent of the sentence in this section becomes clear.

Zhui is an alert bird that moves at the slightest touch. Placing the character jian, “to see,” on its right therefore means observing this bird’s disposition and then controlling it with Qi (vital energy) so that it does not notice. When the moment ripens and the two Qi meet, it naturally grows attached to their union and forgets harmonious blending. The meaning of guan lies precisely here, and the decisive function rests on the character for Qi. What Qi is this? It is the Qi within Kunyuan, that is, the primordial Qi contained in the Kun Origin.

The bird spoken of here is the Li crow, the black bird symbolizing the Li trigram and the fire of the heart. It contains the flowing pearl of true Jing (essence) and is keen in temperament. The Cantong qi says: “The flowing pearl of Great Yang always wishes to abandon people; once it at last obtains the essential florescence, it turns and becomes mutually dependent.” What is called “golden florescence” is precisely the Qi within the Kun Origin. When the time arrives, the marrow of Kan rises—that is, the rabbit’s marrow. Kan and Li unite, transform into a white fluid, and then condense until firm. Once condensed, it no longer flies apart; this is what is called “control.” The effect it produces is precisely the wondrous working of nature. If one traces the secret by which this is achieved, it lies in undifferentiated stillness and solemn quiet. The Yijing says: “Supreme indeed is the Kun Origin; the myriad things depend on it for birth, and it compliantly receives Heaven.” This is exactly the essential meaning of the section, only Fan had not yet grasped this level.

Life is the root of death, and death is also the root of life. Favor is born of calamity, and calamity in turn is born of favor.

Fan says: “death” is the result of the constant Dao (the Way) running its course, while “life” must be cultivated by reversing that constant Dao. After the constant Dao has brought a person to birth, if the mind is deluded by passion and desire, Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) dissipate, and one finally goes on to death; thus life can itself become the root of death. Cultivating oneself by reversing the Dao means letting the mind “die” away from passion and desire, so that Jing, Qi, and Shen are preserved and true life is at last attained; hence it is said that death can also become the root of life. When Ziyang says, “Take the gate of death as the gate of life, and do not take the gate of life as the gate of death,” he is speaking of precisely this principle. In sum, by employing the method of reversing the Dao through inward concealment and latency, and by first learning the principle of “death” while the body has not yet died, one can preserve life.

The dragon and the snake rising vigorously out of dormancy are the expression of Qi and blood surging upward once they have been nourished and stored to sufficiency; the roar of thunder and the passage of wind correspond to the moment when the moon leaves its imprint upon the elixir terrace (the inner realm of refinement illuminated by the moon’s course). Hence it is said that within favor, calamity arises. When treachery lies hidden within the state, the time at which the disaster of plunder is about to take shape is often precisely the sign that ruin is at hand; branches and leaves in full flourish, and flowers opening in bright splendor, foretell that Yin Qi is about to be exhausted and Yang Qi is turning back. Hence it is also said that within calamity, favor arises. The two lines that follow speak precisely of the fire times (huohou) in cultivation (the grasp, in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), of the advance and retreat of the movement of Qi and of the measure of the moment). For the mechanism by which the fire times and punishment and De (Virtue/Power) diverge from and transform into one another, consult the related passages together with this.

Yide says: The arising and the passing away of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) depend on one another and serve as each other’s root; favor and harm therefore also depend on one another and turn into one another. This section can be explained directly in line with the scripture. It offers a lead-in to what follows, and it also carries forward the sense of zhi—restraint and regulation—from the passage above. The essential point is to perceive the changes in the movement of Qi (vital energy), so that no one aspect grows excessive and throws the whole out of balance, and then to regulate it in keeping with the circumstances of the time. In this way the practice takes effect. This is the working by which harm is turned into favor, and death into life.

The subtle principle set out in the next section teaches how one actually begins the work of cultivation. What is called “fire timing” (huohou) lies above all in seizing the moment, so as to discern the sequence in which the movement of Qi proceeds. What is called “gathering” (caiqu) lies above all in selecting and regulating external things, so as to harmonize the excesses of one’s own Yin-Yang. These operations are extremely subtle, and their transformations are hard to grasp, yet they do not go beyond the principle stated in this section.

The meaning of this section is that only one who can fully realize innate nature can fully fulfill the mandate of Heaven. Everything discussed after this section concerns the principles of ming (life), yet within them xing (nature) still presides. Fan’s explanation of this section also contains points worth adopting.

The foolish take the patterns running through heaven and earth for the principle of the sages; I, however, apprehend the principle from the patterns of temporal order and of things.

Fan says that yu refers to the female monkey. When the allotted measure of Qi (vital energy) between Heaven and Earth reaches fullness, radiance and patterned markings naturally appear of themselves. This symbolizes Kan and Li meeting, entering the center, and becoming the sign that Earth is formed.

The essentials of observing the heavens and examining the earth are therefore not the ordinary learning that studies the courses of the stars and the grain of the land. They lie in grasping that the sun and moon move according to a set regularity, that things great and small each have a fixed allotment, and the profound law by which Heaven and humanity respond to one another. By this one may seize the efficacy of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformation and alter the path of Heaven’s mandate; the crux lies precisely here.

What is called “taking the patterned principles of Heaven and Earth as sagehood” is looking at heaven and inspecting earth as the foolish understand it. I, by contrast, rely on the regularity of the sun and moon and the fixed allotments of things great and small, and when the opportune moment appears I employ a formless, wondrous functioning, so that a person may grasp the heavenly mechanism, radiance may thereby appear, and temporal order and pattern may accord with sagely wisdom.

Even when the myriad things are tangled together and lure one another, this can still enable a person to set the mechanism of their own Qi silently in motion, in accord with the patterned law between Heaven and Earth; from this, one can clearly discern the principles of affairs by means of the inherent pattern of things. Such a patterned law in fact lies in what is most intimate and most ordinary to us from morning to night. This is precisely the pivotal point at which the ordinary person and the sage are transformed; do not mistake it—please ponder it carefully.

What appears on the outside is “pattern”; what runs through the inside is “principle.” Sages and the wise can all understand these truths and penetrate them fully. What is called the pattern of Heaven is the movement of the sun, moon, and stars; what is called the pattern of Earth is the form of mountains, rivers, and terrain. Even a thorough mastery of observing celestial phenomena and calculating the lay of the land yields only the signs that Heaven and Earth display, not the fundamental principle by which Heaven and Earth operate.

The word “timing” covers both the seasons of Heaven and the opportune moments of the human person. Heaven has fixed rhythms, and the human body likewise has moments that correspond to them. Their alternation and change, their concealment and appearance, their waxing and waning, all follow a clear order, and in carrying out the practice one must not miss the moment. How great is the working of timing!

“Things” are spoken of in relation to “the self,” and here they mean the human person. The forms and signs that appear below gather together and become the various affairs of the human world; the Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) that issue forth above likewise each have their order. The two respond to one another and join without falling into confusion. How vast and boundless is the working of things!

All who resolve to seek the Dao (the Way) look for it in Heaven and Earth, in timing, and in the myriad things. What people often overlook is this: the great Dao lies within timing and the myriad things. The movement of the mechanisms of Qi between Heaven and Earth can be verified by calculation; it is visible to the eye. The relations of waxing and waning, mutual response, and mutual penetration between timing and things can be confirmed only by quiet, attentive observation; they are invisible to the eye. This is the intent of the Yin Fu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman). Read directly according to this principle, the meaning is just this.

Commentary: This section sets forth the essential point by which each of two modes of cultivation rectifies nature and life, and within it lie the subtle principles of two paths proceeding side by side. What is called “dismantling ignorance” refers to the mind of the woman. The commentator cites the Zuo Zhuan, “Woman is a yang thing; her nature is concentrated and still,” and holds that cultivation should begin with the use of the mind: one thoroughly integrates the Heaven and Earth, together with the patterns and principles, of one’s own person, and when the moment arrives, responds to and unites with the “True One” (the pure and unitary primordial Qi) that arises in the void, thereby forming the “sacred embryo” (the inner fruit spoken of in cultivation).

The method I adopt takes no-mind as its function, so one need only let the patterns and principles within timing and things become naturally full. When the mechanism of Qi appears, one maintains the utmost emptiness and stillness, waits for it to come and join of itself, and then enfolds it with true intent; the sacred embryo can then be formed. The general sense is this: the other party is originally without mind, so the True One that arises responds readily; I am inwardly full, and must be empty and still in order to receive it. The principle is simply this.

The orthodox purport of the Yin Fu Jing is as follows. Each dwells in its own place; each has a mechanism of Qi that issues outward, yet that mechanism never leaves the self, and so a mysterious state appears that seems at once present and absent. The primordial Qi of the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and humanity) fills the Six Directions (Heaven, Earth, and the four quarters). Cultivating in relation to one another, each reaches the realm of emptiness and non-being; the treasure of the Three Powers takes Wuwei (non-action) as its abode. When emptiness meets emptiness, they merge without a gap. Within each, Yin-Yang is again contained; they unite in empty stillness, and transformation arises from this. To describe this subtlety, even if all the bamboo of Mount Zhongnan were cut down to make brushes, one could not finish writing it. Emptiness further returns to quiet stillness; the various transformations intermingle; mind and spirit are at ease; and the fruit that is nurtured is sure to be full.

If one does not miss the moment and receives the myriad things with a mind of emptiness and stillness, then each side gains something. Both parties accumulate in their cultivation, like jade heaped into mountains and gold spread out as the ground. This is precisely the basis of the function spoken of in the preceding section, “Heaven releases the mechanism of killing.” The sage takes account of both men and women and delivers people universally, and therefore the next section will also teach another method, opening a separate path. Its essential formula is extremely mysterious, yet its actual function is ordinary and close at hand. Few readers of the scripture, ancient or modern, have been able to grasp it, because they have lacked oral transmission and personal instruction. Yide himself says that he has comprehended the teacher’s meaning and has fully disclosed the mysterious purport within it, hoping that readers will together strive to realize it.

Ordinary people use an appearance of dullness and ignorance to conceal their intention of pursuing the sage’s Dao (the Way); I, by contrast, do not seek the sage’s Dao by pretending to be dull. Ordinary people hope, through strange practices, to accomplish the sage’s Dao; I do not rely on strange methods in the hope of becoming a sage. If one becomes obsessed with such things, it is like falling into water and fire, and one will in the end bring destruction upon oneself.

Fan says: “yu” means an appearance of not understanding how things work and of being muddled and ignorant; “yu” carries the sense of concealing and guarding against, and also refers to using words to hint at the “central palace” (the center of inner cultivation). Ordinary people wish to learn the sage’s Dao yet feign ignorance in order to hide their own doings, and this is therefore called “using dullness to conceal the sage.” The “sage” is not the same as the ordinary Dao. Fan holds that I understand the cosmos as if it lay in the palm of the hand, and that the transformations of the myriad things arise from the body; when Kan and Li—water and fire, commonly used to indicate Yin-Yang—come into conjunction, and metal and wood—Metal and Wood among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water)—unite, the efficacy of the sage’s Dao arises from this, and the nature of spiritual illumination manifests of itself. All of this issues from the Dao of natural Wuwei (non-action) and need not be sought by pretending to be dull; it is therefore called “not using dullness to conceal the sage.” This is the secret contained in the three characters “yu yu sheng.”

Yide says: The root reason Fan’s reading of this Jing (scripture/classic) is absurd is that he took the text to have been written only for men, and then stuck rigidly to pulling characters apart by their graphic form. Never having received oral transmission and mind-to-mind instruction, he relied entirely on his own guesswork, and he even took “yuan” for “yi.” He exhausted his ingenuity, only to stray onto a side path. Better to explain the Jing directly from the wording itself; the meaning then becomes clear of its own accord.

“Yu” means to gauge and examine; “sheng” means penetrating clarity of discernment; “yu” means being settled and still—looking dull, yet not truly dull; “qi” refers to a working that is wondrous and out of the ordinary. The Dao (the Way) of the sage follows ziran (natural spontaneity, the self-so) and does not consist in chasing the strange. If one forces one’s action, destruction follows. This section is precisely a preparation for the two characters “ziran” below. The words look plain, yet the mysterious intent runs deep.

In the age of the Yellow Emperor, people spoke of the Dao and did not speak of elixir refinement. In later ages every kind of teaching about cultivation appeared, but in the end none of it can leave body and mind. This section continues what comes before and opens a further level. It speaks of the great Dao that holds the myriad things within one’s own person and brings oneself and outer things to fulfillment together. Yet this is not made by human contrivance, which is why the text next specifically points out the two characters “ziran.”

Cultivation takes “stillness” as its way of entry. Its true work is, once utmost stillness and utmost emptiness have been reached, to be able to employ the “wondrous vessel” (the fundamental support by which a marvelous function is brought forth in cultivation); only when one at last attains the realm of shattering the void is it complete. The Jing still holds something back here and does not disclose it fully. To grasp the deep meaning of this section, one must interpret it from the authenticated transmission and oral formulas of Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin).

If the previous section sets out the rule of entry—within the sequence of times, things and events, and the grain and veins of pattern, constantly examining with a still mind, and apprehending the working of Shen (spirit) in its illumination from the course of sun and moon and from things great and small—then the method of this section is to set down at one stroke all those workings of sun and moon, of great and small, of times and things, and of grain and veins. The three are joined as one: as if the high heavens rested on one’s head and the solid earth lay under one’s feet, heaven and earth taken wholly into oneself, while animals, plants, and living beings of every kind become companions in cultivating the Dao. Human nature contains the myriad things and is perfectly complete; suspended in emptiness, it appears like a single pellet.

When the practitioner advances the fire and withdraws the tally (the process, in Neidan (internal alchemy), of regulating the advance and retreat of the firing times), it is as if one sat at the top of this pellet watching the firing times. This is the work of expanding and setting in order the “Yin’e” (in Neidan, a figure for a crucial site, or the foundation, within the body). Once the firing times have been reached, the practitioner enters the pellet and concentrates Shen in quiet nourishment: both letting the primordial Shen rest and, with stillness and stability, guarding the Yin’e.

At this point the ears and eyes no longer hear or see outer things, and the outward manner seems dull; yet “great wisdom looks like foolishness,” and this is precisely the way into the realm of the sage. Within heaven and earth it is as if a reversal took place, showing a wondrous scene; yet the joining of Yin-Yang, harmonious and freely communicating, does not make a sage by the pursuit of the strange.

The function spoken of in the previous section is the true primordial dispersed among the Three Powers (sancai) of heaven, earth, and humanity, used to expand and set in order one’s own Yin’e. It is only the True One (zhenyi) that assists one’s own cultivation, and it does not yet stand in direct relation to the pre-heaven (xiantian) True One; this resembles the sort of practice Buddhists describe as accumulating śarīra. The “wondrous vessel” of the final section is another function of the True One, and its efficacy is vast. All of these are the highest principles of ziran. The Jing does not say them outright, but only indicates their first traces. If one does not accord with ziran, one falls onto a side path, even into such dangers as entering fire or sinking into water. Such is the purport of the sacred Jing.

The Great Dao (the Way) of nature is originally tranquil, and so heaven, earth, and the myriad things are able to come into being. The patterns by which heaven and earth operate gradually seep in and blend together, so that Yin and Yang wax and wane; as Yin and Yang impel one another, change is able to proceed smoothly.

Fan says that “the Dao of nature is still” refers to the pre-heaven state in which Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) is an undifferentiated whole. When stillness reaches its extreme, movement begins, and from this heaven and earth and the two modes of Yin and Yang are generated; the two modes interact with each other and in turn generate the myriad things. This describes how pre-heaven Qi (vital energy), responding to the opportune moment, spontaneously nurtures and transforms the myriad things.

The Yin and Yang Qi of heaven and earth continually circulates in the course of its operation, gradually accumulating and clarifying, and when the measure of Qi is sufficient it is set in motion. Yin and Yang wax and wane and impel one another, so that transformation unfolds smoothly, and human beings and things each grow accordingly. This describes how the post-heaven movement of Qi operates in accordance with the seasons. To follow the timing of heaven is to grasp the moments of mutual resonance between heaven and humanity, the stirring of the Qi-mechanism, and the regulation of diet, and also to attend to sequential changes such as the waxing and waning of the sun and moon. All these moments are the fundamental basis, in cultivation, for mastering huohou, or “fire timing” (regulating the progress of practice according to the proper time).

Yide says that “jin” means seeping into and blending with one another. The various moments of resonance between heaven and humanity, the stirring of the Qi-mechanism, the regulation of diet, and the waxing and waning of the sun and moon are all fundamental bases for mastering fire timing.

Yide explains that “jin” means seeping into one another and mutually infusing. Yin contains Yang within it, and Yang likewise contains Yin; hence it is said that Yin-Yang mutually overcome and transform one another. Fan’s explanation of this passage accords very closely with the subtle mystery of the Dao (the Way).

One must also understand, however, that although at the outset one deliberately employs a certain “thing,” the function it brings into play must reach a state as if there were no thing; and in the end, even after one has arrived at the realm of no-thing, one can still act as if a thing were present. These subtle principles, in which the direct and the reverse are turned upside down and which are hard to state outright, can only be grasped with the mind and are difficult to convey in words. The root of it all lies in taking emptiness to its extreme and stillness to its depths.

When emptiness reaches the extreme, there is no obstruction, and one is not constrained by acquired (postnatal) factors; through the working of the Dao one can further refine and melt them, so that they return to emptiness and nothingness. Only after emptiness is stillness possible. Once one is still, the mind within becomes clear and lucid; when the moment arrives one perceives it, without dullness or obscurity, and handles it fittingly, thereby avoiding any going against the timing.

The “timing” spoken of here is in part innate (prenatal) and in part acquired (postnatal); some occasions are suited to meeting and taking in, others to relinquishing and letting go. When one should advance, one “advances the fire”; when one should withdraw, one “retreats the tally.” Advancing the fire and retreating the tally are terms in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy), referring respectively to pressing forward in accord with the moment and to drawing inward and regulating the breath. Although these changes follow their natural course, they must still be set in motion by intention. In that movement, sometimes one restrains and sometimes one raises; sometimes one should be direct and sometimes yielding; sometimes firmness is fitting, sometimes slowness, sometimes urgency; sometimes one should penetrate through and sometimes remain concealed. Transformation arises from this, and the achievements of the sage are likewise brought to completion from this.

The Venerable Taixu (Great Void), my former teacher, said: “When the sages transmit the methods of the elixir, they pass on only the method of employing the medicine and do not transmit the firing process (huohou). It is not that they are unwilling to transmit it, but that the firing process must be set in motion as the timing changes and carried out according to the particular circumstances. To apply a fixed pattern mechanically is contrary to principle. Elixir methods of the highest grade are transmitted from mind to mind; those of the middle grade require oral instruction; those of the lowest grade must be written in books to be transmitted, because their procedures are comparatively elaborate.”

The Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Talisman) was originally written in cloud-seal script, and the characters were very large, each more than a zhang—some ten feet—in height. The Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan obtained this scripture from the Celestial Altar on Mount Kongtong. Even a sage such as the Yellow Emperor could grasp it only through question and answer. The version circulating in the world is said to be the text handed down by the Yellow Emperor’s own hand. Although the scripture has already been set down in writing, its mysterious intent must still rely on transmission from mind to mind. If one quiets the mind and savors it, the highest intent of this scripture has already been made plain in the opening sentence of this section.

Laozi further said: “Human beings take Earth as their model, Earth takes Heaven as its model, Heaven takes the Dao (the Way) as its model, and the Dao takes what is spontaneously so (ziran) as its model.” In the opening sentence of this section, the Yellow Emperor has already revealed the essential point: he teaches people to take their stand at the source, where father and mother have not yet been born, Heaven and Earth have not yet taken form, and the work of creation has not yet left any trace. If one knows how to apprehend principle within what is spontaneously so, one can return all things to the source and accord with the Dao in every respect.

He also said: “The previous section takes in such matters as the sizes of the sun and moon and the patterns of the seasons and of things, and at the same time it breaks attachment to these outward appearances. This section speaks of the transformations of Yin-Yang, yet within them lies the principle of seizing the right moment, which is well worth taking to heart. The aim of the previous section is to warn people not to cling to surface signs; the aim of this book is to warn people not to overlook the right moment. When my teacher, Master Niwan, said that these matters are suited to oral transmission, he was most likely referring to subtle principles of this kind.”

Yide, after careful textual investigation, states that in this passage the character cui (“to shatter”) is written tui (“to push”) in most current and ancient editions. In light of the statement in the Yijing (Classic of Changes) that “the firm and the yielding push one another,” the character would seem to call for tui. Precept Master Yunyin of the Taiwei Lü Court once received ritual objects secretly transmitted by the National Preceptor, the lofty master Wang Kunyang. It is said that among the robe and bowl, scriptural scrolls, bound texts, ruyi scepters, scripture staffs, and other objects handed down by successive generations of perfected ones since Patriarch Qiu, there was a copy of the Kongtong Questions and Answers, stamped with an imperial seal inscribed by Emperor Taizong of the Song and known as Chen Xiyi’s treasured edition; it also preserved a verse on the transmission of the precepts written in Patriarch Wang Chongyang’s own hand. This is an ancient edition from before the Song and Yuan, yet it writes cui. The character cui in this copy must therefore have a basis and is not a copyist’s error. The Yijing says, “Dragons battle in the wild; their blood is dark and yellow,” and cui here may be taken in the sense of joining battle and clashing. Yide therefore still follows the Fan edition in writing cui.

In the upper chapter, the sentence “know it and cultivate it” is written “cultivate and refine” in the other editions; only the Lü edition of the precept court writes “cultivate it,” a reading that better accords with the grammar of classical Chinese. The edition obtained by the Fan family probably came from the precept lineage (Lüzong), and for this reason the arrangement of sections and the punctuation of the entire scripture (jing) follow the Fan edition, without adopting the chapter divisions and titles of other editions. Readers should distinguish them with care.

Thus the sage, understanding that the Dao (the Way) of nature cannot be opposed, accords with it and sets things in order accordingly. The utterly secluded and still Dao cannot be brought into complete accord even by the lüli (the system for calculating the calendar, the solar terms, and time). Thereupon a marvelous instrument arises, and from it the myriad things are generated. The Bagua (Eight Trigrams), the jiazi (the system of reckoning time by the heavenly stems and earthly branches), together with marvelous mechanisms, hidden transformations, and the laws by which Yin-Yang overcome one another, all manifest with clarity and further appear as visible forms.

Fan says: “The Dao (the Way) of the natural comprises the three-part practice of embryonic breathing. What is called embryonic breathing is not, as people commonly suppose, concentrating the mind on the Dantian (energy center) and forcing the breath to circulate within the body. It first treats the union of Heaven and Earth, then the mutual aid of Kan and Li (taking the joining of water and fire as a metaphor for the harmonizing of Yin-Yang), and finally the movement of Qi (vital energy) returning to centered harmony. To learn this method, one must enter into the state of a person in the mother’s womb, so that the Ren and Du channels (the two important channels running along the front and back of the body) are opened, and the breath rises, descends, and circulates, thereby assisting the generation and transformation of life.

“None of these practices can do without the ‘reversed radical’ of ‘ten mouths,’ by which Yang Qi is made to travel downward; this is why the phrase is called shigu (‘therefore’). From ancient times, no one who became a sage or realized the True has done so except by this. Thus the practice of Wuwei (non-action) that does not stir was established as the fitting method, one that cannot be altered. It is not a correspondence that can be reached by calculating with calendars and numerical arts, and so there arises the function of the extraordinary vessel (qiqi).

“This extraordinary vessel is in truth the source of the Dao, the root of Qi, the basis upon which the myriad things transform, and the root of the Yinfu (Hidden Talisman). The sage takes it as the place from which cultivation begins. The hidden pivot of the changes of life and death is established by it; the work of stealing the powers of creation is carried out through it; and an efficacy that seems not marvelous, yet manifests the marvelous, may also be gained from it. The movements and changes of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), of the jiazi cycle, of water and metal, and the rest are all reversed by means of it. The joint arousal of Heaven and humanity, the welcoming of spirits and the concealment of ghosts, likewise all depend on its working.

“This extraordinary vessel is the method by which Yin and Yang restrain and transform one another. Once it is put to use, one is sure to obtain the Yang of ‘koukou daogui,’ and clear signs then appear. Placing the extraordinary vessel in the final chapter is also a prompt to employ it at the last stage. Yet when people take this extraordinary vessel to be the Mysterious Female, the furnace and cauldron, the Dantian, the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and the like, is it really the form of the vessel described in the Cantong qi (The Seal of the Unity of the Three) by the lines, ‘Round: three and five; one cun and one fen. Mouth: four and eight; lips of two cun. Length: one chi and two; thick and thin made even’? Here the character qi (‘vessel’) holds the secret of mouth facing mouth and aperture answering aperture; the character jin (‘to advance’) indicates the place where this extraordinary vessel is applied. When practice reaches the stage of using the extraordinary vessel, if one only grasps its essential point, every matter can be brought to completion.

“Alas—the sages’ classics lie before the eyes, the wondrous instructions are kept in the heart, and the principle of creation and transformation is already complete. Why still be content to set them aside, and fail to know that one should hasten to the work? Strive; strive.”

Yide says: To explain the character qi (“vessel”) in this way does not cohere with the meaning of the scripture before and after it, and is not the correct interpretation. He cites the Cantong Qi and further describes it as “the bodily form of the wondrous vessel,” thereby falling into the partial and deviant explanations of the commentators—an approach still less to be taken. Only the Daoist of Yunyang, who uses the Hetu (River Chart) and the Luoshu (Luo Writing) to explain such lines as “the circle of three and five,” is the most exact. If the character “vessel” is explained in the sense of the Hetu and the Luoshu, one may come somewhat closer to the great Dao (the Way).

The Yizhuan says: “What is above form is called the Dao; what is below form is called a vessel.” The vessel is the image in which the Dao becomes manifest. The word “vessel” here should be understood from the standpoint of the Dao, and may also be taken in the sense of measure and scope. Ordinary implements have form and material substance, size, an inside and an outside, and a limit to their capacity. The “vessel” spoken of here, however, is without form and without substance, neither great nor small, with neither inside nor outside, and with no end to what it can contain; it is therefore called the wondrous vessel. It embraces Heaven and Earth and brings the myriad things to completion, and so is called a vessel. In truth, it is precisely the source from which Heaven and Earth are generated and from which the myriad things emerge; hence it is said, “this gives birth to the myriad things.”

In terms of function, it is called a vessel; in terms of its fundamental reality, it is called the Dao, that is, the Dao of spontaneity (ziran). The Dao of spontaneity is still by nature. Pitch standards and calendrical rules can measure the changes of later heaven (houtian), yet they cannot accord with the stillness of prior heaven (xiantian). The Bagua (Eight Trigrams) and the jiazi are all numerical patterns within change; what governs the movement of the Bagua and the jiazi is this wondrous vessel of utmost stillness, in which are stored a marvelously subtle vitality and a working that remains hidden and unshown. In the prior-heaven state it leaves no trace and cannot be named; within the human body it is called the mysterious aperture (xuanqiao), and likewise no form or trace of it can be seen.

Human beings and the myriad things alike receive this Dao as an endowment from prior heaven. It is the foundation on which the myriad things settle themselves and establish their lives, and also the place to which the myriad things return to the root. Every transformation arises from it, and the achievements of the sages are likewise established upon it. Cultivate oneself by following this vessel, and the parts of the body come into harmony; govern the multitude by following this vessel, and the transformations of the myriad things are brought to rest.

The sage knows that Heaven and Earth possess the Dao of spontaneity, and that merely making implements cannot bring one into accord with it; he therefore realizes in himself this spontaneous wondrous vessel. The myriad things are born from it, and every transformation likewise arises from it. Taking this as the root, the sage grasps the patterns of Yin-Yang transformation and seeks the source from which the myriad things are generated, and only then brings the various transformations to completion in his own person. Applied inwardly to the single body or outwardly to all under Heaven, it can in either case put forth a working that is wondrous and deeply concealed. Shen (spirit) is the extending of Yang Qi (vital energy), and so one speaks of the “trigger”; the ghost is the drawing in of Yin Qi, and so one speaks of “concealment.” When Yin and Yang restrain one another and come to exact balance, the myriad things are thereby born. Though this wondrous vessel has no form or image, it can clearly display its working. This is the highest practice of contemplating the Dao of Heaven and grasping the movement of the Heavenly Dao.

Fan distorts the great Dao with a private view of his own. If my explanation can be heeded and preserved, the partial and deviant accounts may then come to rest.