《西昇經》Vol. 3

Laozi reveals the mystery of the form-spirit relationship in the Scripture of Western Ascension: Shen (spirit) and physical form are interdependent—the shen gives life to the form, while the form provides a dwelling for the shen. Like the relationship between a carriage and its passenger, the form serves as the vehicle carrying the shen, while the shen acts as the ruler of the form. Their separation signifies death; only when form and shen exist in harmony can one unite with the Dao (the Way).

The essence of shen is inherently pure, yet it is often disturbed by human desires. Ordinary people chase external things and indulge their senses, preventing their shen from finding peace. Sages, however, return to simplicity and preserve the purity and wholeness of their shen. They understand that excessive strength leads to decline, and sharp edges invite setbacks. Thus, they abide in their unadorned nature, existing in harmony with heaven and earth.

While ordinary people constantly pursue unstable things, sages remain content with their true essence. The law of the Dao (heavenly principle) always reduces what is excessive, supplements what is lacking, weakens what is strong, and strengthens what is yielding. Therefore, sages block off cunning intellect and return to childlike innocence—this is the true path to lasting peace.

This passage explains the natural laws of heavenly Dao (the Way) and the cultivation methods by which sages emulate these cosmic principles.

The movement of heavenly Dao follows this pattern: what is high will be lowered, what is low will be elevated; excess will be reduced, deficiency will be supplemented. These are all natural manifestations without artificial interference or selfish intentions. Sages model themselves after heavenly Dao by continually diminishing selfish desires and distracting thoughts, reaching a state of no-thought and no-concern, becoming as pure and natural as an infant. Maintaining inner sincerity while abandoning clever schemes, they return to their most fundamental nature.

All things under heaven have their origin, and this origin is like the mother of all things (referring to "Dao"). Just as filial children serve their parents with every action mindful of parental grace, sages who comprehend the great Dao treat it with the same devotion as serving their parents, never departing from it for even a moment.

Regarding cultivation of body and mind, Laozi said: When the body maintains emptiness, all things naturally return to it; when the mind achieves voidness, harmonious Qi (vital energy) naturally gathers. Those who truly understand nourishing their will forget their physical form, while those who pursue the great Dao forget their intellect. Freed from physical constraints and clever interference, they commune with the great Dao—thus unburdened by the body, all things naturally submit. Observing one's inner state, when the mind no longer clings, one won't forcibly manipulate Qi, allowing it to naturally regain balance.

Those skilled in nurturing life can conceal themselves within their bodies without revealing, and hide their true nature among people without showing. Only those who can conceal the world within the world are qualified to discuss such realms.

When noble persons govern a state, they must first be willing to sacrifice themselves for it. Though appearing to perish, they never truly vanish—this makes the state prosperous and prevents people from scattering; instead, they become more substantial. Scholars facing danger can sacrifice their lives, repaying the state with loyalty and righteousness, achieving virtue through martyrdom—though dead, their spirit endures. With the assistance of worthy talents, they establish foundations for national peace. A state becomes strong because all under heaven submit to it like children returning to parents; people become substantial because they understand this principle.

Those who recognize the constant Dao and put it into practice can return to original simplicity. Ordinary people pursue pleasure for survival, but when actions lack moderation, lifespan is exhausted. Returning to the origin is called "constancy"; understanding constant principles is called "illumination." Those who truly comprehend the constant Dao naturally act differently from ordinary people, for noble persons find joy in attaining the Dao.

Ordinary people are constantly obsessed with satisfying their desires, their actions like opposing directions. They mistake indulgence for happiness, believing it leads to better living, yet in truth it only hastens the loss of life. Before their pleasure even concludes, sorrow follows close behind. But when one takes the Dao as their joy, this happiness brings true vitality—such joy is truly boundless. As Zhuangzi said: "Is what worldly people pursue really happiness? In truth, wuwei (non-action, following nature without force) is genuine joy, yet this is precisely what the mundane world despises."

How vast and profound are heaven, earth, and the myriad things! They are nebulous and difficult to comprehend. The more one tries to understand them with intellect, the farther they recede; the harder one grasps, the more they slip away; what seems near is in truth most distant.

There exists something perfectly natural and complete—we reluctantly name it the "Dao," though it could also be called "Greatness." It has existed since antiquity, profound and mysterious, beyond the reach of cleverness or talent. When you stand on tiptoe seeking it, it seems before you; when you turn away forgetting, it lingers behind. Deliberate pursuit leads to failure, while maintaining wuxin (no-mind, non-intention) brings one closer. Preserving a state of primal simplicity allows constant unity with the Dao. Those who claim to understand the Dao have already strayed from it.

Thus, sages rely neither on the world, nor on spirits, nor on the myriad things. They take emptiness as their body and wuwei as their mind. These two united form the "body-without-body, mind-without-mind"—what we call guarding the primordial shen (spirit). Guarding the shen leads to mystical communion, becoming one with the Dao.

The truly great cannot be confined by particular things. Only by remaining unbound can one master all things. To understand that mastering things lies not in the things themselves—such a state transcends mere governance of the world. Taking emptiness as body, wuwei as mind, relying on nothing—this is freedom from external bondage. Forgetting body and mind, simply guarding the shen without loss, merging with it completely—thus the Dao abides with you, achieving the unity of heaven and humanity.

The "Chapter on No-Thought" states: The truly wise do not indulge in random thoughts but maintain constant emptiness, wuwei, tranquility, and stillness. Cultivating one's own being, the myriad things develop naturally. What need is there for so much calculation in the world? Great wisdom observes far and near, viewing the world from the perspective of the world itself. Maintaining emptiness, stillness, tranquility, and wuwei preserves the essence of life. Then the spirit penetrates all directions, reaching heaven above and earth below, transforming and nurturing all things without leaving traces.

Those who constantly seek to change circumstances, coveting the world's treasures to satisfy selfish desires, bring forth chaos and warfare. Calamity arises from within—when the state is in turmoil, the people grow exhausted.

The Daode Jing states that when rare goods are not valued, the people will not steal. Zhuangzi similarly mentions that if jade is discarded and pearls destroyed, petty theft will cease. The nation takes the people as its foundation—if the people grow weary and depart, the state will decline. This is like trading priceless treasures for a bandit's sword. Thus, the sage follows the natural order, practicing wuwei (non-action) and avoiding disturbance, all to ensure the people live in peace and prosperity.

The people are the roots of the state; only when the roots are firm can the nation be at peace. Yet some rulers exchange what the people treasure—such as life—for what they do not value, such as land. Wars waged to seize territory leave corpses strewn across the fields; battles fought to capture cities turn rivers red with blood. This is as foolish as trading priceless treasures for a bandit's blade. The sage governs through wuwei, and the people naturally return to harmony; without stirring up trouble, the people naturally prosper. Why must rule rely on slaughtering the people and annexing others' lands?

Therefore, those who grasp the root of the Dao (the "One") comprehend all things. When the mind harbors no selfish desires, even spirits submit. Those who truly understand the "One" know everything; those who do not understand it know nothing. De (Virtue/Power) is attainment—gained through realizing the "One," by maintaining a state of no-mind. All things arise from the "One," and the efficacy of spirits is nothing but an extension of our original mind. Abiding in this state of no-mind allows communion with the divine, where neither harms the other, and De is naturally perfected.

In the Chapter on My Fate, Laozi says: "My fate is governed by myself, not by Heaven or Earth. Misfortune and fortune are self-invited." By not looking, not listening, and not thinking, the shen (spirit) does not dissipate, and thus the body abides with the Dao, attaining longevity. When the eyes do not gaze outward, the ears do not heed sounds, and the mind does not stir with thoughts, your yuanshen (primordial spirit) guards the form, and the form endures.

I share the same qi (vital energy) with Heaven and Earth, each guarding its own root. All things under Heaven are composed of the same qi, existing since ancient times. Those who understand how to preserve this root find nothing ungovernable. As Liezi said: "Heaven, Earth, and I share the same origin."

(The Daoist practitioner) does not deliberately imitate others in doing good, does not feign benevolence and righteousness, does not pretend loyalty or trustworthiness, does not affect reverence, and does not love out of selfish desire. All things naturally benefit. Acting virtuously without seeking fame, their conduct is upright yet they do not claim righteousness; caring for others yet they do not claim benevolence; sincere in heart yet they do not claim loyalty; proper in speech and action yet they do not claim trustworthiness. With reverent sincerity, they comprehend all things, loving impartially, benefiting all without contrivance—everything arises spontaneously.

The Scripture of Western Ascension (Xisheng Jing) expounds the core Daoist principles of "non-action" (Wuwei) and "softness." Laozi teaches that only by maintaining a detached and non-striving mind can one return to the Dao. True perfected beings (those who have attained the Dao) never flaunt their radiance, and sages never pursue fame. Emptiness, stillness, simplicity, and solitary non-action represent the highest state of Virtue (De). Ancient Dao-realized individuals concealed their brilliance and hid their reputations precisely because they deeply understood this truth.

Regarding military strategy, Laozi unequivocally states: Warfare is the most ominous affair under heaven, never a nation's treasure. Even when possessing martial power, one must exercise extreme caution—reckless use of force leads to national ruin and the suffering of people. Though weapons are inauspicious instruments, they resemble the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) where none can be entirely dispensed with, making their occasional use unavoidable. However, those who delight in conquest and warfare violate the Dao of compassionate governance.

Sages preserve the subtle methods of the Dao, maintaining their original simplicity without contending with the world. Such individuals remain unharmed by fierce beasts, unpoisoned by venomous creatures, and untouched by blades—all because their profound Virtue resonates with the mysterious Dao. The Dao eternally practices non-action yet accomplishes everything; sages embodying this principle contend with nothing, yet none can contend with them. This emerges naturally from accumulated goodness becoming Virtue, as Zhuangzi illustrates: when one wanders the world empty of self, what could possibly harm them?

Finally, the text reveals the philosophy of "softness": Nothing under heaven is softer than Qi (vital energy), yet the Dao is softer still. This very softness contains heaven-earth and penetrates all things. Softness births strength, though most people fail to comprehend this fundamental truth. Qi exists as a receptive emptiness, originating from the Great Beginning (Taichu), while the Dao precedes even the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji). Softness constitutes the Dao's function—from celestial bodies to all creatures, everything arises from it. Though its root remains invisible and its gateway unfindable, its presence and operation are undeniably real.

This scripture elucidates the relationship between Dao (the Way) and "natural spontaneity" (ziran), as well as how humans may attain longevity through self-cultivation. Laozi (the deified Lao Jun) proposes:

The fundamental law of all phenomena is that Non-being (wu, emptiness) gives birth to Being (you, existence), and the formless void generates Dao—whose essential nature is spontaneous naturalness. Though Being and Non-being manifest differently, both originate from primordial emptiness. This emptiness is not absolute nothingness, but rather the absence of fixed form. The three concepts of Dao, emptiness, and naturalness, though named separately, all stem from the same root.

Regarding human lifespan, Laozi observes: People die prematurely not because heaven, earth, or spirits harm them, but due to their own actions. Human consciousness and physical activity breed desires and transgressions. As ancient texts state: Natural disasters may be avoided, but self-inflicted calamities are inescapable. Heaven and earth nurture all things impartially—human mortality results from indulging passions and dissipating one's vital essence (jing) and spirit (shen).

The method for achieving longevity lies in: severing desires, gathering scattered attention, and harmonizing body with spirit. Heaven and earth endure precisely because they follow natural spontaneity (ziran) and practice non-action (wuwei). By mastering desires, turning inward, and maintaining unity of form and spirit, humans may achieve similar longevity.

Finally, Laozi describes the true Daoist practitioner: Though living in the world, nation, hometown, and household, their mind remains unattached to external things; though possessing a physical form, their spirit transcends bodily limitations. This state of transcendent detachment represents genuine realization of Dao.

(Note: The term "trapping tools" (quanti) metaphorically refers to means for achieving ends, like fishing nets or rabbit snares; "harmonization of form and spirit" (xingshen hetong) denotes the essential Daoist cultivation principle of unifying physical and spiritual dimensions.)

Though the human body measures but a few feet, the mind can embrace the creative transformations of heaven and earth—how could it be confined by physical form or constrained by spatial boundaries? Those who truly attain the Dao forget worldly disturbances, regarding the entire cosmos as their temporary dwelling, simply following the natural course of things. The same principle applies whether observing a nation, a village, or a household. The ancients viewed homes as waystations and villages as foreign lands precisely because they understood this truth.

As for the "Shen" (primordial spirit) within the human body, it passes Mount Tai unimpeded, dives into deep waters unmoistened, and dwells in humble circumstances undistressed. It fills the space between heaven and earth, permeates the eight distant horizons, nurtures all things without attachment to form, and is never limited by the seven-foot frame. Yet foolish people treat this Shen as private property, attempting to possess it completely—like expecting to obtain a fine steed by guarding the hoofprints in an empty stable.

In Chapter 31 "Subtle Warnings," Laozi states: Misfortune often arises from inattention; calamity frequently sprouts in minute details. Hidden perils mostly lurk in inconspicuous places, erupting when people become negligent. The sage's precaution before situations deteriorate and wise intervention stem from understanding this principle.

Good emerges from evil; benefit manifests through harm. Where there is good, evil stands opposite; where there is benefit, harm coexists—such is the nature of all things. Only by transcending dualistic distinctions and returning to natural authenticity can one dissolve these oppositions. The sage simplifies complexity, using beauty and benefit to serve the world without claiming merit, thereby gaining universal advantage without suffering harm.

The vast originates in the minute; difficulty arises from ease. What begins simply must develop magnificently—this is "the great born from the small." Regarding matters as too easy invites subsequent hardship—this is "difficulty born from ease." As the Daode Jing states: All great undertakings under heaven begin with trifles; all difficult tasks under heaven start with what's easy.

Height rests on foundations; distance begins nearby. Nine-tiered towers rise from piled earth; thousand-mile journeys start beneath one's feet. External manifestations stem from internal essence—what fills the heart must express outwardly. Nobility takes humility as its root; movement relies on stillness as its base. Flourishing grows from decline—without winter's storage, spring's abundance cannot emerge. Yin energy arises when Yang reaches its zenith—without Yang's culmination, Yin cannot be born.

The two chapters of the Xisheng Jing primarily discuss the dialectical relationship between "being" (you) and "non-being" (wu), as well as the interdependent relationship between the Dao and humanity.

Regarding "being" and "non-being": They depend on and transform into each other. "Being" returns to the state of "being," and "non-being" returns to the state of "non-being." From "non-being," "being" arises, and when "being" reaches its extreme, it returns to "non-being." The "empty" can become "solid," and the "solid" ultimately returns to "emptiness." All things in the world, from good and evil to Yin-Yang, follow this principle. Just as good inevitably coexists with evil, "being" and "non-being" correspond to each other, each maintaining its intrinsic nature—like a shadow following a form or an echo responding to a sound. True cultivators of the Dao are neither obscured by "being" nor lost in "non-being," but instead maintain the Middle Way.

The relationship between the Dao and humanity: Laozi says that humans exist within the Dao, and the Dao also exists within humans—just as fish dwell in water, and water also resides within the fish. The Dao is omnipresent; all things rely on it to function. Zhuangzi also remarked that the Dao permeates all things and is never distant from humanity—it is people who distance themselves from the Dao. Just as fish perish when separated from water, humans struggle to survive when severed from the Dao. Therefore, sages understand the need to return to their original, authentic state, shedding arrogance, extravagance, and distracting worries. In this way, though their physical forms may fade, their spirit (Shen) endures eternally.

Sages, through cultivation, attain higher realms: They return to the primordial state of all things, neither clinging to external phenomena nor fixating on internal thoughts, transcending the distinction between inner and outer. Through refining Qi into form and refining Shen to merge with the Dao, they need not deliberately seek the allegiance of the people—they naturally unite with the Dao. This is the principle described in the Daode Jing: "Hold fast to the Great Image, and all under heaven will follow."

The way of governing a state: A truly stable nation has deep roots, boundless like the Dao. Heaven and Earth nurture all things without claiming possession, nor do they hoard treasures like gold and jade. Heaven covers all selflessly; Earth bears all selflessly—thus, Heaven and Earth do not begrudge their Dao or treasures. Those who appear to transcend Heaven and Earth are still, in truth, within their laws.

The Western Ascension Scripture (Xisheng Jing) presents the universal presence of Dao (the Way) and the behavioral principles for Daoist practitioners.

It first establishes that Dao is the fundamental source generating all things between heaven and earth, permeating everywhere. Those who truly comprehend this truth realize that although heaven and earth are vast, they are entirely encompassed within Dao's domain. By transcending physical limitations, one attains enduring life; by rising above attachments to life, death, fortune and misfortune, the spirit (Shen) becomes unconstrained, thereby achieving eternity like heaven and earth.

The text then describes the distinctive qualities of Dao cultivators: they delight in what ordinary people dislike (referring to cultivation practices), disregard gains and losses, and find true joy in pursuing Dao. They undertake what common folk avoid (referring to ascetic training) and believe in principles the masses doubt (referring to mystical truths). These seemingly paradoxical behaviors precisely demonstrate the fulfillment of complete Virtue (De).

It further clarifies that Dao isn't exclusive to certain individuals but universally exists in all things, just as even tiles and weeds contain Dao. Only, beings themselves remain unaware. Dao never abandons anything - it is beings who stray from Dao.

Finally, two metaphors illustrate this: just as commoners don't realize their lives originate from divine endowment or that they benefit from rulers' grace, people constantly use Dao without awareness, mistaking it for natural spontaneity. This resembles the ancient saying "What has the Emperor's power to do with me?" - though in truth, all phenomena operate within Dao's functioning.

The sage (referring to one who has attained the Dao) internalizes their Shen (spirit) and prevents the Hun (ethereal soul) and Po (corporeal soul) from dissipating outward. By guarding the root (the mother), its manifestations (the children) naturally remain intact. Just as a nation thrives when its people live in peace, accumulating the subtle and formless Qi (vital energy) prolongs life.

The Dao Jing mentions "carrying the Hun and Po," explaining that the Hun belongs to Yang and is active, while the Po belongs to Yin and is tranquil. The sage uses the Shen to govern Qi, employing the Hun to restrain the Po. Thus, the Shen always carries the Po without being burdened by it—how, then, could the Hun and Po scatter outward? The Shen is the root (mother) of Qi, and Qi is the manifestation (child) of the Shen. By guarding the root, the whole is naturally preserved. This is akin to how the people are the foundation of a nation—when the foundation is stable, the nation is at peace. Similarly, Qi is the source of life; when Qi is abundant, longevity is prolonged. The scripture speaks of "attaining subtle and wondrous Qi," and Zhuangzi also states, "Qi is empty and tranquil, yet it contains all things." This primordial Qi harmonizes with the Dao’s principles—when it fills the body, there is no decline. If one can maintain this fullness of Qi, their lifespan will be as endless as heaven and earth.

Humans can study the myriad things of heaven and earth yet remain ignorant of the source of their own lives—this is the greatest folly. Turning inward to examine oneself reveals the root everywhere; seeking outward leads only to trivialities. People chase after the trivial while forgetting the root, exhausting their Shen on superficial matters. Though they may comprehend the vastness of heaven and earth through intellect, they fail to reflect on themselves. The Dao is near, yet they seek it afar. Claiming to be wise, they are in truth the most deluded.

Chapter 35 of the Zhì Shēn Zhāng (Governing the Body Chapter) records: Laozi said the way of self-cultivation begins by withdrawing into the space between heaven and earth, dwelling quietly at the origin of all things. The "Gate of the Mysterious Feminine" (referring to the source from which the Dao gives birth to all things) is the root of heaven and earth. To withdraw into heaven and earth does not mean hiding the body from sight but rather anchoring one’s foundation in the utmost stillness. The origin of all things is the origin of heaven and earth; the nameless state is the beginning of heaven and earth. To return to this root and abide within it—how could self-cultivation be difficult? The Primordial Chaos (referring to the undifferentiated original state) once said to Confucius, "I wander in the beginning of all things"—this is precisely the meaning.

The sage comprehends the wondrous and primordial Qi of chaos, maintaining themselves through stillness and contemplation. They understand that the relationship between Shen and Qi is like that of mother and child—guard the root (mother), and the whole (child) is naturally preserved. Just as governing a nation requires stabilizing its foundation, nurturing life requires enriching Qi. True wisdom lies not in outward pursuit of knowledge but in turning inward to recognize the principles of life’s origin.

This passage elucidates the mystery of Qi (vital energy) and the method of preserving its pure essence. Laozi (the Lord Lao) and Guan Yinzi (Master Guan Yin) propose that all phenomena between heaven and earth are composed of Qi—a subtle yet primordial substance that constitutes the foundation of life. The sages, through comprehending and preserving this pristine Qi, attain extraordinary abilities: moving unseen without suffocation, treading fire without burns, and traversing all things without fear.

Ordinary people, however, attempt to safeguard their bodies through emotional attachments and desires. While this may superficially resemble the sages' method of "preservation," their approaches differ fundamentally in nature. Those who preserve the Dao (the cosmic principle) achieve enduring stability, whereas those chasing illusory passions find their efforts fleeting. Though both employ tangible means to protect the physical form, Qi remains formless—capable of merging with primordial chaos to reach the paradoxical state of "appearing as substance yet transcending substance."

Chapter 36, "The Chapter on Dao and De," further clarifies: the Dao (cosmic origin) and De (its manifest virtue) constitute the ultimate destination of all existence. From the formed to the formless, from sentient to insentient, all things return to their respective categories according to natural law. The Dao never seeks emptiness, yet emptiness naturally returns to it; De doesn't pursue divine connection, yet accumulated goodness spontaneously communes with the spiritual realm. Just as heaven maintains clarity without striving, and earth remains turbid without effort—all phenomena follow this inherent cosmic pattern.

The crucial distinction lies in methodology: the wise safeguard life through alignment with the great Dao, while ordinary people drown in sensual attachments. Though both engage in "preservation," their approaches yield diametrically opposed outcomes—the former harmonizes with eternal nature, while the latter ultimately dissipates into nothingness.

The clear and light rises to form heaven, while the turbid and heavy descends to form earth. Just as damp places need not deliberately seek water, for water naturally flows there; or as dry places need not deliberately seek fire, for fire naturally gathers there. Water flows to moist places, fire tends toward arid regions.

All things do not deliberately manifest form, yet form naturally appears. From movement and transformation arise phenomena, and once phenomena take shape, life forms emerge—this is what we call "form." Once something becomes a concrete entity, it inevitably becomes bound by the constraints of physicality.

High mountains and vast marshes do not deliberately attract birds of prey or tigers and wolves, yet these creatures naturally come to dwell there; deep abysses and great rivers do not deliberately summon fish, turtles, or dragons, yet these beings naturally gather there. Just as accumulated earth forms hills where birds and beasts congregate, or pooled water creates deep pools where fish and turtles multiply. Zhuangzi said: Creatures born by water find contentment in aquatic realms, while those born on hills find contentment in terrestrial domains.

If humans can maintain a state of emptiness and wuwei (non-action), they need not deliberately pursue the Dao (the Way), for the Dao will naturally come to them. From this, can we not see that the nature of all things is inherently spontaneous? The Dao is eternally natural and wuwei (non-action). By continually reducing artificial striving, one ultimately attains the state of wuwei, and the Dao will abide with you. The Suwen states: Maintain a mind of emptiness and tranquility, and true qi (vital energy) will naturally follow.

Regarding the question of good and evil, Laozi said: When the people perform good deeds, I do not deliberately take notice; when they commit evil, I do not deliberately take notice; when they act with loyalty and sincerity, I likewise do not deliberately take notice. For the accumulation of good deeds naturally attracts benevolent qi, while the accumulation of evil deeds naturally attracts malevolent qi.

The sage holds no fixed subjective judgments but instead takes the hearts of the people as his own heart. He maintains a detached attitude toward both good and evil, allowing them to develop naturally. He treats the unkind with kindness and the untrustworthy with trust. Good and evil, truth and falsehood, ultimately return to the unity of the Dao—why bother with deliberate distinctions? Yet observe a person's actions and conduct: the accumulation of good or evil brings fortune or misfortune as surely as a shadow follows form or an echo answers a sound. This depends entirely on one's own deeds.

Therefore, the sage declares: In my heart, I embrace the origin of all things (the beginning) and safeguard the mother that nurtures all phenomena. Thus, all things may flourish naturally, and life is thereby nourished and sustained.

The primordial state of heaven and earth is called "namelessness" (wuming), which is the origin of all things; the fundamental source that nurtures all beings is called "named existence" (youming), the mother of all creation. Though these two have different names, both are manifestations of the Dao. The Dao resides within all things, and all beings take the Dao as their root. By following the Dao, one preserves one's true nature. As Zhuangzi said, "Supreme joy lies in preserving life," which can only be attained through Wuwei (non-action, or effortless action). Even the most sagely beings of primordial virtue do not claim sagehood for themselves, but rather cite the words of sages as evidence—this is precisely why their wisdom grows ever more profound.

Often we don't even understand our own original mind, so how can we judge the good and evil in others? Superficial knowledge is shallow, while deeper truths are hard to grasp; external learning comes easily, but inner wisdom is difficult to attain. Thus, true wisdom often manifests as "not-knowing" (non-attachment to surface understanding), while those who think they know are actually far from true knowledge. The great wisdom lies in admitting one's lack of understanding about others while maintaining clear self-awareness.

Those who consistently practice goodness receive divine protection, moving in harmony with heavenly principles. Through continuous accumulation of virtuous deeds, the spirits bestow blessings, and heaven naturally brings good fortune to the virtuous. As the Daode Jing states: "The Way of heaven shows no favoritism, yet it constantly supports those who do good."

In the "Chapter on Silent Intention," Laozi says: My Dao is serene and plain, with thoughts still and unmoving. Death marks the beginning of rebirth; only in perfect stillness can one return to original nature. Plainness means not becoming entangled with external things; silence means maintaining stability without reckless action—this is the true essence of the Dao. Those who embody the Dao appear outwardly like withered wood, inwardly like dead ashes, with inner thoughts completely tranquil, returning to a state of silent stability. Precisely because they do not cling to life, their forms endure long—all this is the natural manifestation of returning to one's original nature.

Life continues endlessly, like water gradually permeating all things. The root of the Dao is unfathomably deep because its center is empty, thus able to contain the essence of all things. The infinite naturally returns to it precisely because of its emptiness and desirelessness. Individual lives perish, but the life-giving source (the Dao) never ends. Understanding the Dao can be instantaneous, but practicing it requires long cultivation. Through sustained practice, when one's Jing (essence) and Qi circulate like spring water throughout the body, there will be no obstruction or distress. This is the operating principle of "Tianyi" (primordial Qi).

The Scripture of Western Ascension describes the mystical state attained by practitioners through specific cultivation methods. Laozi (Lord Lao) imparts to Yin Xi (the Ancient Master) the essential techniques for returning to the origin:

During cultivation, that mysterious energy envelops the entire body, while spiritual fluids (the refined Qi produced through practice) flow naturally, nourishing the senses and limbs. The primordial Qi (Yuanqi) takes firm root, the mind becomes empty yet the Dantian (energy center) is full—thus, the essence of all things gathers spontaneously. The ancient realized ones could restore their innate Qi and transmit spiritual power precisely because they mastered this method.

Laozi admonishes: "My physical form is about to return to the state of 'namelessness.' 'Namelessness' is the source before heaven and earth separated—to return to it is to revert to the Great Beginning (the primal state of the cosmos). Though the body perishes, the true self endures eternally. Only by relinquishing attachment to the physical form can one achieve lasting existence. Now, as I depart, I return to the origin—the 'One.'"

Before the Great Beginning was "Non-Being" (Wu), from which the "One" emerged. This "One" is the origin of all things, yet the state before the Great Beginning transcends description. Returning to this source allows complete unity with the boundless Dao, roaming freely without trace—this is governance by the "Supreme One" (Taiji, the highest manifestation of Dao). Confucius once described Laozi as "aloof like a withered tree," having glimpsed this very state.

Suddenly, Laozi's form vanishes, only to reappear moments later amid five-colored radiance. Yin Xi kneels, pleading for further instruction. Then Laozi's golden body appears suspended in midair, his form shifting unpredictably. The sage achieves perfect unity with the Dao—his embodiment fills the void, making his divine transformations indescribable.

Laozi's final teaching: "Purge distracting thoughts and guard the 'One' (focus on the fundamental). Eliminate all worldly defilements, and all things will be accomplished naturally—this is the essence of cultivation." With these words, his form dissolves. Yin Xi weeps and follows in devotion, abandoning official duties to focus wholly on practice. Ultimately, he realizes: "To comprehend the 'One' is to accomplish all. The 'One' is the subtle primordial Qi—heaven is clear by it, earth is tranquil through it, and all things flourish because of it."

Note: "Guarding the One" (Shouyi) is a crucial Daoist practice involving concentrated focus on the Dantian or the Dao's origin. The "Supreme One" (Taiyi) refers to the Dao as the highest principle. "The subtle workings of essence" (Jing zhi shu) describes the refined operational patterns of primordial Qi.

The Western Ascension Scripture (Xisheng Jing) explains how practitioners can attain the highest state through maintaining their original mind. The key lies in preserving inner purity and focus, undisturbed by distracting thoughts.

Those who can truly guard their original mind without losing it will return to the most refined prenatal state of existence. However, if even the slightest turbid thought remains unclarified, one will fail to maintain this original mind. All burdens must be completely relinquished, leaving no trace of trivial distractions, so that delusions fully subside. Only then can the mind remain clear and bright, like a mirror unclouded by dust.

Those who achieve this state of "embracing the origin and holding fast to the One" (baoyuan shouyi)—remaining unwavering in focused concentration on primordial Qi—grasp the essential method of all Daoist cultivation. This is why the ancient sages particularly valued the "refined and unified" path. Take, for example, Guangchengzi, the legendary immortal of high antiquity, who cultivated his body for twelve hundred years without physical decline—this was precisely due to his mastery of this method.

The Perfected of Chaotic Origin (Hunyuan Zhenren) once said to Nanrong Chu: "The essential secret of nurturing life and cultivating truth lies in whether one can 'embrace the One' (baoyi) and whether one can avoid losing the original mind." This aligns perfectly with the principle discussed here.