《雲笈七籤》Vol. 91

Guarding Harmony, Chapter One

Lord Lao said: Before heaven and earth had formed, all was dark, deep, and undivided. Later, the clear and light gathered to become heaven, while the turbid and heavy congealed to become earth. Heaven and earth split apart, giving rise to the four seasons and Yin-Yang (the two forces that oppose and depend on each other). Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy)—the refined vital Qi that constitutes life—formed human beings, while turbulent, mixed Qi formed insects. Hardness and softness interacted, and thus the myriad things came into being.

The root of Shen (spirit) is in heaven; the root of bones is in earth. When Shen enters the body and the bones return to the earth, what then will remain of me? Therefore the sage models himself on heaven and accords with earth; he is not bound by worldly conventions and not led astray by others. He takes heaven as father and earth as mother, Yin-Yang as the guiding principle, and the four seasons as the pattern.

Heaven is tranquil and clear; earth is stable and peaceful. The myriad things die if they violate the pattern and grow if they accord with it. Therefore, quietness and solitude are where Shenming (spiritual clarity) dwells securely; emptiness and void are where the Dao (the Way, the fundamental pattern of all things) resides. Human Shen (spirit) is received from heaven, and bones from earth. Hence it is said: “One gives birth to two, two gives birth to three, three gives birth to the myriad things.” The myriad things turn their backs to Yin and face Yang; the Qi of Yin and Yang intermingle and form harmony. Therefore, the most important thing is to guard this harmony.

Guarding Spirit, Chapter Two

Lord Lao said: Human beings are born by receiving the transformations of heaven and earth. In the first month of pregnancy, a paste-like substance forms; in the second month, a sac; in the third month, an embryo; in the fourth month, a fetus; in the fifth month, sinews grow; in the sixth month, bones grow; in the seventh month, the body takes shape; in the eighth month, movement begins; in the ninth month, there is restless stirring; in the tenth month, birth occurs.

After the human form is completed, the five viscera take shape accordingly: the lungs govern the nose, the kidneys the ears, the heart the tongue, and the liver the eyes. The exterior of the body is the outside, the interior is the inside; the head is round, modeling heaven, and the feet are square, symbolizing earth. Heaven has the four seasons, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), the Nine Stars, and three hundred sixty days; humans have the four limbs, five viscera, nine orifices, and three hundred sixty joints. Heaven has wind, rain, cold, and heat; humans also have activity and rest, joy and anger. The gallbladder is like clouds, the lungs like Qi, the spleen like wind, the kidneys like lightning, and the liver like thunder; all these correspond to heaven and earth.

The human heart is the master; the ears and eyes are like the sun and moon, and blood and Qi are like wind and rain. If the sun and moon move irregularly, they will press against each other, become eclipsed, and lose their brightness; if wind and rain do not come in season, they will cause destruction and damage...

When the five baleful stars (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) move out of their proper courses, the commanderies and counties suffer calamity. Vast as the scope of Heaven and Earth’s movements is, they still know to restrain their own radiance and cherish their own spiritual brightness; how much less can human ears and eyes labor for long without rest? How can the human Shen (spirit) keep galloping without becoming exhausted? Therefore the sage guards the Shen within and does not let it scatter and be lost.

Chapter Three: Guarding Qi (Vital Energy)

Blood and Qi are a person’s radiance, and the five viscera are a person’s Jing (essence) and Qi. When blood and Qi are concentrated within and not dissipated outward, the chest and abdomen become full, and cravings and desires diminish. When cravings and desires are few, the ears and eyes become clear, and hearing and sight grow sharper. When the five viscera are unified under the heart and do not scatter, Qi and intention can take the lead, and conduct will not go astray; when the Shen is abundant, Qi will not be lost. In this way, there is nothing one does not hear, nothing one does not see, and no undertaking that does not succeed. Anxiety and harm find no entry, and deviant Qi cannot invade.

The more things one seeks, the less one actually obtains; the wider one spreads one’s field of vision, the less one truly understands. The apertures of the human body, such as the ears and eyes, are the gates through which the Shen enters and exits; Qi and intention are the envoys and signs of the five viscera. Therefore, if the ears and eyes indulge in sounds and colors, the five viscera will waver and become unsettled; blood and Qi will run wild without cease; and the Shen will race outward, unable to remain within the body. Even if misfortune or fortune arrives like a mountain, one will have no way to perceive it.

Thus the sage cherishes the Shen and does not let it cross outward beyond its bounds. If the ears and eyes are clear and penetrating and are not seduced by external things; if Qi and intention are empty, still, and peaceful, with few cravings; if the five viscera function smoothly; if the Shen stays within and the body does not exceed its normal measure—then even when observing events long past or inferring things to come, why should one fear misfortune or fortune?

The farther one pursues things outward, the less one knows. This means that one must not allow the Shen to dissipate outward. The five colors in confusion disturb the eyes and blur vision; the five tones in disorder disturb the ears and dull hearing; the five flavors in excess disturb the palate and spoil taste; the turmoil of accepting and rejecting disturbs the inner mind and sets the temperament adrift. Thus cravings weaken a person’s Qi, and likes and dislikes weary the heart; once illness arrives, the will and Qi decline day by day.

People fail to live out their natural lifespan because they are always trying to nourish and augment life. Only by not deliberately pursuing the business of nourishing life can one, on the contrary, preserve life for long. Heaven and Earth move and penetrate one another; the myriad things gather and return to a single unity. One who can know the One knows nothing that cannot be known; one who cannot know the One truly knows nothing at all.

To dwell in the world is merely to be one thing among the myriad things; each of the myriad things is itself one thing among the myriad things. By what does one thing measure another? To crave life is not worth pursuing deliberately; to loathe death is no reason to reject it. If one regards something as base, one need not detest it; if one regards something as noble, one need not rejoice. One should settle securely in the world according to one’s own endowment, not daring to push anything to an extreme. Once one reaches an extreme, one loses the greatest joy.

Laojun said: The so-called sage follows the times and rests content in his position; dwelling in his age, he delights in his own lot. Sorrow and joy are signs that De (Virtue/Power) has been disturbed; likes and dislikes are burdens on the heart/mind; delight and anger are faults that contravene the great Dao (the Way). Therefore, in life he accords with the movement of the heavenly Dao; in death he changes with the myriad things. At rest, he joins with Yin Qi; in motion, he flows with Yang Qi.

The heart/mind is the master of the body; Shen (spirit) is the treasure of the heart/mind. If the body toils without rest, Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) decline; if the heart/mind and Shen are used without cease, the spirit is exhausted. Therefore, the sage honors body and heart/mind and does not dare exceed the limits. Responding to deliberate action with Wuwei (non-action), he invariably investigates its principles; receiving actual things with emptiness and stillness, he invariably exhausts their measure. Tranquil and joyful, empty and bright, quiet and still, they pass their lives thus: neither distancing anyone nor favoring anyone, upholding De, nurturing harmony, and according with the heavenly Dao. They join with Dao and companion with De; they do not rush ahead to seek fortune, nor rush ahead to invite calamity. The changes of life and death cannot disturb them. Thus it is said: when the Perfected Person seeks through spirit, there is nothing he does not obtain; when he acts through spirit, there is nothing he cannot accomplish.

Guarding Benevolence, Chapter Four

Laojun said: Regard the world as light, and the spirit will have no entanglements; regard the myriad things as minute, and the inner mind will not be confused; regard life and death as equal, and the will will not be afraid; regard transformation as ordinary, and the mind will not be deranged.

The Perfected Person relies on formless support but does not cling to any footing; he walks on a road without passes; he takes the impartial inner storehouse as his endowment and learns from a teacher who does not die. Such a person succeeds wherever he goes and penetrates wherever he arrives. Whether bending or stretching, bowing or looking up, he follows his original nature. Reversals of fortune and misfortune, benefit and harm, are insufficient to disturb his mind.

Those who practice benevolence and righteousness can be persuaded by benevolence and righteousness, but cannot be coerced by force; they can be stopped by moral duty, but cannot be tempted by profit. The noble person would rather die for moral duty than change his mind for wealth and honor. Therefore, those who practice benevolence and righteousness are not frightened by death—how much less one who practices Wuwei? With Wuwei there are no entanglements; one without entanglements can embrace the world in his heart. If we examine the discourses of the Perfected Person above and probe the original meaning of Dao and De, then use them to measure worldly conduct, we find that worldly actions are indeed shallow.

Guarding Simplicity, Chapter Five

Laojun said: Honored power and abundant profit are what people covet. Compared with one’s own self, they appear base…

Thus, when the sage eats, he only seeks to fill what is empty and replenish Qi (vital energy) and strength; when he clothes himself, he only seeks to cover the body and ward off cold. What is reasonable he accepts; what is left over he discards, without greed for excess. His eyes do not look at things that disturb Shen (spirit), his ears do not listen to sounds that agitate him, his mouth speaks little, and he sets aside mental concerns and does not overthink. He abandons cleverness and acuity, returns to the Great One (Taiyi)—the primordial, undifferentiated state spoken of in Daoism—and lets the spirit rest, without clinging to knowledge and preconceptions. With neither partiality nor aversion, he can reach a state of unobstructed understanding.

To remove defilement and escape entanglement, it is best to return to the original state before things have manifested and to emerge from their root. What then cannot be accomplished? One who understands how to nourish life and preserve harmony will not be constrained by profit; one who penetrates inner and outer and discerns body and mind will not be seduced by power. One who can realize that “the beyond of the beyond” is boundless and “the within of the within” is supremely precious, and who understands what is truly the great Dao (the Way) and what is truly precious—what would he do that would not go smoothly?

Preserving Ease, Chapter Six

Laojun (the Old Lord) said: In ancient times, those who cultivated the Dao regulated their temperament and nature and cultivated the workings of the mind. They nurtured themselves with harmony and maintained themselves with moderation. They delighted in the Dao and were not troubled by low status; they rested in De (Virtue/Power) and were not sorrowful over poverty. When their temperament had something it did not wish for, they were not bound by it; when their mind had something it did not enjoy, they did not cling to it. Anything that did not benefit temperament and nature they did not use to damage the nature of De; anything contrary to their original nature they did not use to disturb their inner harmony.

Indulging the body and acting as one pleases must have a certain measure and restraint before it can become a standard for the world. The amount one eats should match what the belly requires; clothing should match the body; travel should take settling the body and suiting the intention as its measure; action should accord with reason. What is surplus beyond the body they leave to the world and do not claim as their own; toward the myriad things they harbor no possessiveness and seek no private gain from them. How could such a person lose original nature and life because of noble or base status, poverty or wealth? One who can be like this may be said to have realized the Dao.

Preserving Clarity, Chapter Seven

Laojun said: After people receive bodily form from Heaven, the ears and eyes come into contact with sounds and colors, the mouth and nose with fragrances and foul odors, and the skin with cold and warmth; these sensations are the same for everyone. Yet some thereby move toward death, while others are preserved; some become noble persons, while others become petty persons—the key lies in how each person restrains himself.

Shen (spirit and mind) is the root of cognition. When Shen is clear and bright, cognition is clear; knowing is the dwelling place of the mind, and when the mind can be fair and impartial, it can be peaceful. People do not use flowing water as a mirror; they use still, clear water to reflect their forms, because water is clear and settled. Only when Shen is clear and still and the mind is harmonious can one master the desires stirred by external things. Therefore, genuine use is often preceded by not making arbitrary use.

A bright mirror is not obscured by dust and grime, and a clear, still Shen does not sink into cravings and desires. Once a thought inclines in some direction, Shen follows and assents to it; if one can return to empty stillness, those thoughts will gradually disperse and cease. This is the realm in which the sage wanders freely in the Dao. Therefore, one who governs the world must first understand the nature of humans and the conditions of life before he can govern well.

Lord Lao said: “The so-called sage is simply one who follows his original nature: he eats according to the measure of his appetite and clothes himself according to his body’s needs. If he can restrain himself, greedy and turbid thoughts have no place to arise. Therefore, one who truly possesses the world will certainly not take the world as an object of pursuit; one who truly possesses fame will not seek reputation by running about and maneuvering. He truly penetrates the nature of life, and benevolence and righteousness naturally issue from his original heart.

As for one whose spirit-consciousness is unobscured and whose heart has no attachments, who can communicate with the myriad things, and whose cultivation is penetrating yet bland and free of affairs—power and profit cannot lure him, sounds and colors cannot confuse him, the eloquent cannot persuade him, the clever cannot shake him, and the brave and martial cannot frighten him. This is the path of the Zhenren (True Person).

That which enables life to generate without cease does not die; that which can transform and nurture the myriad things is not transformed by the myriad things. If one does not understand this principle, then even if one’s knowledge can encompass heaven and earth and clearly discern the sun and moon, if one’s eloquence is enough to untie linked rings, and if one’s beneficence can even moisten metal and stone, there is still no benefit to the world. Therefore, the sage never loses the root to which he holds fast.”

Lord Lao said: “Clarity and stillness, tranquility and blandness are the methods of nourishing life; peace and joy, a mind of emptiness, are the ways of settling De (Virtue/Power). When external things do not disturb the inner heart, the original nature can find a fitting resting place; when the inner mind is tranquil and not restless, the harmonious Qi (vital energy) can make one dwell securely in one’s place. Nourishing life, one can stabilize the ways of the world; embracing De, one can live out one’s natural lifespan. This can be called realizing and practicing the Dao (the Way).

Such a person’s blood vessels do not stagnate, and the five viscera do not accumulate pathogenic Qi; misfortune and blessing cannot disturb him, and slander and praise cannot entangle him. If one were not born in such an age, who could accomplish such a work? Even if one meets such a time, without such a person nothing can be accomplished; if one cannot even transcend oneself, how much less can one do so without the Dao?

If the eye is focused on observing the tip of an autumn hair, the ear cannot hear the sound of thunder; if the ear is concentrated on distinguishing the sounds of jade and stone, the eye cannot see the height of Mount Tai. Therefore, when the mind is focused on the small, it inevitably neglects the great. Now the myriad things come in profusion, pulling and uprooting the original nature, exhausting the heart-spirit and distressing the emotions; Jing (essence) and Qi are consumed like spring water. Even if one wishes not to decline, how could it be done?

A basin of water, if left still for a whole day, shows no dust; but stir it once and make it muddy, and one cannot clearly see square or round forms. The human Shen (spirit) is hard to keep clear and bright but easily becomes turbid, just like this basin of water.”

Lord Lao said: “The highest sage models himself on the heavenly Dao; the next exalts worthies and talents; those lower still hand government over to ministers. Handing government over to ministers is the road to danger and ruin; exalting worthies and talents is the root of doubt. To model oneself on the heavenly Dao is the principle for governing heaven and earth: taking emptiness and stillness as the root. In emptiness, nothing is not contained; in tranquility, nothing is not received. Only one who understands the Dao of emptiness and stillness can penetrate beginning and end. Therefore, the sage governs by stillness…” The original text is incomplete at this point.

Once things are disturbed, they easily become chaotic. Therefore, do not confuse, and do not stir up the myriad things; the myriad things will naturally become clear and quiet. Do not panic, and do not fear; the myriad things will naturally be governed. This is called the Dao (the Way) of Heaven.

Guarding Fullness, Chapter Eight

Lord Lao (Laojun) said: When the Son of Heaven, dukes, and marquises regard the world or a state as their own household and scheme over the myriad things as their own property, then because the world is vast and the myriad things are numerous, rulers easily become arrogant in bearing and self-indulgent in ambition. In severe cases they use armies to invade and attack; in milder cases they become haughty and self-important and bully their subordinates, while what their hearts seek is extravagant and grandiose. This is like violent winds and torrential rain, which cannot last long.

Therefore, the sage uses the Dao to reduce such arrogance and excess, guards the root, follows naturalness, and does not harm the inner Qi (vital energy) of harmony and balance. He observes the subtle and minute, holds to softness and weakness, yields and does not act recklessly. He takes the rivers and seas as his model. The rivers and seas never force the hundred streams to return, yet the hundred streams naturally flow into them; thus the rivers and seas can be vast. The sage does not flaunt strength, and the myriad people naturally submit to him; thus he can accomplish the work of a true king. The sage dwells in a position of softness, compliance, and humility, so he can make people’s hearts turn toward him without bringing harm to himself; only by knowing how to cherish himself can he maintain dignity.

To rule a state of ten thousand chariots and rely on the myriad things to achieve merit and fame involves extremely great power and responsibility, which must not be treated lightly. If one takes one’s own duty lightly, merit and fame cannot be achieved. The Dao of Heaven always uses the small to complete the great and accumulates from the few. Therefore, the sage governs the world by the Dao. Softness, weakness, subtlety, and profundity mean attending to the small and fine; frugality and restraint, not seeking fullness, mean starting from the few. Only by valuing the subtle can one achieve the grand; only by knowing how to take little can one achieve excellence.

The Dao of Heaven suppresses the high and supports the low, reduces what is excessive and supplements what is insufficient. The rivers and seas occupy low places, and the waters of the world gather there. The sage is humble, pure, and quiet, declines and does not contend—this is to rest in lowliness; emptying the heart and practicing Wuwei (non-action) is not to consider oneself sufficient. Only by resting in lowliness can one reach the high; only by not being self-satisfied can one achieve virtuous De (Virtue/Power).

One who stands on tiptoe is not steady; one who boasts of himself cannot endure; one who flaunts strength and strives to win easily meets calamity; one who is overfull will eventually decline. Violent winds and torrential rain cannot last a whole day, and a small valley cannot be filled in an instant. Violent winds and torrential rain carry a forceful Qi, so they cannot last long and ultimately disperse; a valley lies where powerful currents strike, so it inevitably suffers erosion and encroachment.

Therefore, the sage maintains feminine softness and humility, eliminates extravagance and excess, and does not flaunt an overbearing Qi. By maintaining feminine softness, one can instead achieve firmness and strength; by not pursuing luxury and excess, one can endure.

Lord Lao said: When the Dao of Heaven develops to its utmost flourishing, it becomes full; after becoming full, it declines—such is the waxing and waning of the sun and moon. Therefore, the sage preserves the Qi of harmony and balance, dares not be self-satisfied, and daily advances his cultivation through softness, compliance, and humility, so his merit and De do not decline. This is the natural principle of according with the Dao of Heaven. Human nature mostly loves high places and dislikes low ones, loves to gain and ...

Everyone detests death and delights in profit, detests illness and delights in honor while detesting lowliness; therefore they are always busily doing something. For just this reason they cannot succeed, nor can they truly attain anything. The sage emulates the Dao (the Way) of Heaven: without deliberately acting, he nonetheless succeeds; without clinging to possession, he nonetheless gains.

The sage’s feelings are connected with those of ordinary people, but the path he walks is different; therefore he can endure. The Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors had a vessel to warn themselves, called the youzhi (a leaning wine vessel): when the water was scant, the vessel tilted; when the water was just right, it stood upright; when it was full, it overturned. All things decline after flourishing; the sun begins to move west when it reaches noon; the moon wanes after it is full; joy turns to sorrow when it reaches its limit.

Therefore, the clever and quick-witted should guard themselves with plainness and simplicity; those of broad learning and eloquence should guard themselves with restraint; the brave and powerful should guard themselves with reverence; the noble, wealthy, and influential should guard themselves with humility and withdrawal; those who bestow virtue and benefit upon the world should guard themselves with modesty and yielding. These five practices are the principles by which the former kings governed the world. Those who follow this Dao do not seek fullness. Precisely because they do not seek fullness, they do not move toward decline, nor do they single-mindedly pursue renewal and accomplishment.

Guarding Weakness, Chapter Nine

Lord Lao said: The sage closes and hides with Yin Qi (vital energy) and opens and expands with Yang Qi, and can reach a state in which there is no fixed joy. Since he does not cling to any one kind of joy, there is no joy that cannot become his joy—this is the utmost joy. Therefore his heart is at peace, yet he does not take external things as his joy; this is to place joy within the heart. To be able to find joy in oneself is the most precious condition in the world.

Why is this so? Because he relies on the world to complete the world. The key to the world does not lie in external things but in oneself; it does not lie outside the human person but in one’s own body and mind. When the self is cultivated to stability, all things are complete within the heart. One who understands the principles of the art of the mind can set aside preferences, desires, loves, and aversions. Therefore he has nothing he especially rejoices in and nothing he especially resents; nothing he especially enjoys and nothing he especially suffers. In his view, all things are profoundly interconnected, and there is no absolute wrong or right.

A man of integrity settles his own resolve; a woman holds fast to unchanging conduct. They can be respected without relying on power, be rich without relying on wealth, and be strong without relying on force. They do not covet goods, nor are they infatuated with power and reputation. They do not think themselves secure because of honor, nor do they feel danger because of lowliness. Form, Shen (spirit), Qi (vital energy), and the will each rest in its proper place. Form is the dwelling place where life lodges; Qi is the root of life; Shen is the power that governs life. If even one of these three loses its proper place, the others will also be harmed. Therefore, when Shen is master, form benefits; when form is master, Shen suffers harm.

Those who are greedy, arrogant, and full of excessive desires become immersed in power and profit, enticed and pulled along by fame and status, and wish to elevate themselves in the world by means of cleverness that surpasses others. As a result, their Shen is depleted day by day, and they gradually depart from the Dao of enduring long life, finding it hard to recover. If one closes up the form and tightly seals the mouth…

There is no way to force entry into the Great Dao (the Way), and so one often suffers from confusion and deluded disorder. A person’s spirit, Qi (vital energy), and will, when quiet, become fuller and stronger day by day; when restless, they are depleted and aged day by day. Therefore the sage is good at guarding and nurturing the spirit, making the Qi gentle and soft, making the body stable and at ease, and following the movement of the Great Dao. In this way, none of the changes of the myriad things fail to accord with him, and none of the movements of the hundred affairs fail to be met.

Lord Lao (Laojun) says: What is called the Zhenren (Perfected Person) is one whose original nature accords with the Dao. He seems to possess something, yet also seems to possess nothing; he seems full, yet also seems empty. He cultivates the inner and is not led away by external things; his mind is clear and pure, he follows nature, and returns to plainness. He preserves his original nature and guards his spirit, roams freely between Heaven and Earth, wanders in a trance beyond the dusty world, lives a life of free wandering and Wuwei (non-action), and does not let cunning and calculation remain in his heart.

The Zhenren clearly sees through delusion and does not change with external things; seeing things change, he still guards the root. He concentrates inwardly, causing mind and spirit to reach afar and return to oneness. When dwelling, he does not know what he is doing; when acting, he does not calculate beforehand where he is going. Without deliberate learning he understands; without looking he perceives; without deliberate action he accomplishes; without special governance he discerns. When stimulated he responds; when confronted with urgency he acts—all because he uses his own capacities only when he has no choice. He is like light that does not show off, like a shadow that does not burn; he follows the Dao and naturally accords with conditions. His mind is broad and empty-still; he is clear, quiet, and Wuwei, regarding life and death as one transformation and ten thousand differences as one whole.

Although the Zhenren has spirit, he does not deliberately drive it; although he has spiritual clarity, he does not use it at will. He guards the undifferentiated, naturally complete plainness and stands in the realm of utmost Jing (essence). When he sleeps he does not dream, and consciousness does not stir; when he acts he leaves no trace, and when still he does not cling to form. He exists as if not existing, lives as if dead, and passes in and out without obstruction—he can even command ghosts and spirits. This is precisely why he can act by means of the Great Dao.

He makes the spirit warm, harmonious, and unobstructed, yet does not lose its fullness; day and night he keeps it bright, without Yin stagnation, and treats the myriad things with a spring-like vitality. This is the state in which the mind accords with the Great Dao and follows the seasons of generation and transformation. Therefore the body may decay, but the spirit does not necessarily change with it; meeting ten thousand changes with the unchanging, passing through a thousand transformations and repeated cycles, there is no end. Changing things ultimately return to formlessness; that which does not change with change exists together with Heaven and Earth. Thus what is called life is not clinging to “life,” and what is called change is not clinging to “change.” This is the realm in which the Zhenren roams the Great Dao, and it is also the Dao of pure, undifferentiated plainness.

Thirteen: Emptiness

Lord Lao says: Life begins in thirteen states of emptiness, nothingness, and pure quiet: being minute, having few desires, being soft and weak, being humble, yielding, according with time, and being frugal.

First, forget the body and self, be peaceful and tranquil, as if there were nothing at all—this is called “emptiness.”

Second, reduce selfish thoughts and distracting notions, cast off hypocrisy, and remove desires; this is called "Wu" (Non-being).

Third, concentrate the mind and gather the spirit, not allowing the heart-mind and spirit to mix with external things; this is called "Qing" (Clarity).

Fourth, withdraw and gather the spirit, harmonize the breath, become settled and free from reckless movement; this is called "Jing" (Stillness).

Fifth, dwell in secluded and quiet places and do not display merit or fame; this is called "Wei" (Subtlety).

Sixth, leave wife and children and accompany the Dao alone; this is called "Gua" (Solitude).

Seventh, breathing is harmonious and smooth, fine and soft, subtle and slow; this is called "Rou" (Softness).

Eighth, relax the body and accord with the physical form, using this to respond to all kinds of affairs; this is called "Ruo" (Weakness).

Ninth, reject nobility and glory, be content with poverty, and willingly endure humiliation; this is called "Bei" (Lowliness).

Tenth, avoid fullness and self-sufficiency; food and clothing are coarse and simple; this is called "Sun" (Decrease).

Eleventh, in stillness be settled; in action accord with Yang Qi, respond according to changes, and avoid evil Qi; this is called "Shi" (Timeliness).

Twelfth, be neither hungry nor thirsty, neither cold nor hot, neither joyful nor angry, neither sad nor happy; actions are neither hurried nor slow; this is called "He" (Harmony).

Thirteenth, cherish sight, hearing, speech, and thought; firmly guard the spirit and prevent it from dissipating; take the inner guarding of spirit as essential; this is called "Se" (Frugality, sparing).

Seven Kinds of Retribution

The Zhenren (Perfected One) said: People carry Yin on their backs and embrace Yang, and their karmic causes and conditions differ. Those who relinquish death and gain new life receive karmic fruits that also differ. When one does good, good retribution arrives; when one does evil, evil retribution descends, like a shadow following a form, without the slightest error. The circumstances of good and evil are many, and blessed retributions are difficult to count; broadly speaking, there are mainly seven kinds.

First, in former lives they practiced good deeds, accumulated and spread kindness, and rescued living beings; doing in this life what they did before, they will surely be reborn by transformation in the Hall of Blessings, transcend the "Eight Difficulties" (the eight obstacles to cultivating the Dao and hearing the Dharma), enjoy the blessings of human existence, and naturally receive Heaven's recompense.

Second, in former lives they loved learning, and their aspirations accorded with the way of immortals; they revered the precepts and texts of the Mysterious Gate, faithfully honored spiritual writings, thought of good and reformed evil, and resolved to cultivate the Dao and become true. Doing in this life what they did before, they will be received and guided by celestial sovereigns, their names recorded in the Purple Registers (registers of immortal names), and they will ascend to Yu Chen (Jade Dawn, an immortal realm).

Third, in former lives they delighted in cultivating the Dao and did not fear cold or hardship; they followed their masters and did tasks, always putting labor and hardship first; even when hungry or thirsty, they exerted themselves without complaint. Doing in this life what they did before, they will ride flying chariots, roam and feast among the Five Peaks, drive through the void, and ascend above the clouds and smoke.

Fourth, in former lives they guarded their bodies in chastity, not engaging in sexual license or wickedness, not greedy and with few desires; seeing beautiful forms, their hearts were unmoved, utterly still like dead ashes, firmly guarding the root of the Dao. Doing in this life what they did before, they will receive recompense from spiritual beings, transcend the Three Paths and Five Sufferings (the realms of suffering in Daoism), and no longer undergo these sufferings.

Fifth, in former lives they delighted in doing good and prayed that the Heavenly Dao might broadly bestow grace, so that all people together might be delivered and elevated, far from the eight...

Even if others meet with disaster, one should still keep one’s own situation in mind; if one is not secure oneself, one should also part with clothing to relieve the poor and cold. Give grain to the birds and leave goods in the empty mountains. What is done in this life is no different from what was done in former lives; the deity who oversees good then praises one’s good deeds, and the report moves upward to the Jade Emperor (Yuhuang, the ruler of the heavenly realm honored in Daoism). One’s name is recorded in the Purple Register (Zijian, the heavenly document recording the names of immortals and Perfected), one’s ritual rank is advanced, and one is listed among the upper immortals.

Sixth, in former lives one was loyal and filial, respectful and cautious, serving and supporting elders and relatives; one honored the worthy and did not consider oneself superior to others; one revered teachers and elders. Ruler and minister, father and son, eye and mind were all in harmony with one another, as if sharing one body; inwardly there was no envy, and in speech there were no arrogant or slighting words. Inner and outer were consistent, and actions and conduct accorded with the true Dao. What is done in this life is no different from what was done in former lives; one may then become a person who receives the spiritual Dao, not pass through the Three Wretched Destinies (Santu: hells, hungry ghosts, and animals), and transcend the Eight Difficulties (Ban, the eight obstacles to cultivation). Good deeds gather with one another, and blessings increase one another.

Seventh, in former lives one’s nature was unwholesome, harboring malice and treachery; one attacked teachers and elders, slandered the classics of the sages, and did not honor the sacred scriptures; one doubted the Two Heavenly Perfected (Er Tian Zhen, the true deities of the heavens honored in Daoism); outwardly one was flashy and fond of false adornment, pursuing glory; one said yes while meaning no, and one’s conduct departed from the root of the Dao; one stole scriptures, expounded them without an oath, leaked secret formulas, and spread what was untrue. What is done in this life is no different from what was done in former lives; violating precepts and taboos, one falls into karmic offenses, implicating the seven generations of ancestors, and punishment reaches orphaned souls. After death one suffers plundering and is subjected to fire and trampling; through the Three Wretched Destinies and Five Sufferings for ten thousand kalpas, one obtains no pardon; in the dark long night one is flogged, and pain pierces the body. Therefore, those who wish to cultivate the Dao and study it should carefully read this scripture, turn from evil and do good, and quickly ascend to the realm of immortals.

Seven Injuries

The Perfected (Zhenren) says: In cultivation and study, the essential is that body and mind be harmonious and unified in all respects; one should carefully avoid the seven injuries.

The first injury: one is on the Dao of cultivating Perfection, yet one’s conduct is false; one indulges in sounds and sights, damaging Jing (essence) and Shen (spirit), so that Jing and Qi (vital energy) leak away, original Qi dries up, breath scatters, Hun and Po souls disperse, bones become empty, the body trembles, and the Shen weeps. These offenses reach the heavenly pass, and true immortals depart far away; one then forms ties with the dust world and returns to the Earth Bureau (Difu, the underworld). How then can one become an immortal?

The second injury: outwardly one cultivates the Dao, and orally one recites seeking the truth, but inwardly one harbors sinister malice, fierce evil; one hopes others will fail and envies the worthy. One speaks fair words but inwardly opposes them; one smiles to the face while angry inside; for the sake of arguing gain and loss, one recklessly creates offenses; one slanders and slights fellow students and attacks teachers and friends. The Three Officials (Sanguan, deities governing Heaven, Earth, and Water) all record these deeds and place the person at the gate of evil people. Immortals and Perfected depart far away, and demons invade the body; form and shadow scatter, and body and spirit fly apart. Thus one meets sudden calamity, and evil karma reaches its extreme. After the term of karmic examination is complete, the body becomes ashes, and the spirit-soul sinks into the Nine Springs. Even if the register contains a mysterious name (xuanming, a name in the Daoist registers of immortals and Perfected), how can one preserve the true nature and naturally become immortal?

The third injury: drinking until greatly intoxicated damages original Qi and loses spiritual nature; the Five Storehouses (the five viscera in the body) are harmed, and the ten thousand Shen are thrown into confusion; Hun and Po souls scatter, inner and outer decay, the original chamber within the body (the bodily dwelling that houses the primordial Shen) becomes empty, and the infant (Chizi, the primordial Shen within the body) …

The first kind of harm in cultivation is lamenting in sorrowful tones, which drives the true immortals far away and lets malevolent demons seize the opportunity to invade the body. Cultivating in this way only depletes Jing and Qi. Even if one practices devoutly, one will vainly lose one’s place in the immortal register; the Shen and Hun may ascend to the upper palace, but the physical body will turn to ashes and sink into the dark underworld. If one seeks long life in a dazed and bewildered way, how long can it last?

The fourth kind of harm is failing to accord with external things in one’s actions, blaming teachers and elders, letting the mind scatter, and speaking evil words; being capricious in joy and anger, letting emotions exceed proper measure, and having a perverse and unstable temperament. This causes the Qi mechanism to surge, the Shen to scatter, the inner true Qi to fly away, the Po to depart and the Hun to disperse, and the Jing and Qi of the five viscera to run off with them. These consequences all stem from impurity of nature and misconduct. The true immortals withdraw, external pathogenic Qi invades the body, and what can such cultivation still hope to attain? Even if one holds wondrous charts and registers in hand, one will hardly avoid disaster. The day of hoped-for immortality is far off, while the years in this world are long and hard to endure.

The fifth kind of harm is that, although one has obtained precious scriptures through the manifestation of mysterious charts—secret charts and registers transmitted in Daoism—or has had the opportunity to meet a spiritual teacher and receive divine texts, one does not observe the Keyi (liturgy), covenants, and oaths. Before the term is fulfilled and before cultivation is complete, one leaks the secret methods of heavenly truth. Before nine years have passed, one submits a name card to famous mountains—reporting one’s name to the immortals and requesting entry in the registers—so that a name is recorded in the Azure Palace and a record is left in the Golden Citadel; yet afterward one transmits the secret method to others and lets it spread through the world. Such behavior—treating the true Dharma lightly and leaking treasures—brings down examination and punishment upon oneself. Even if one’s name is listed in the mysterious register, one instead implicates one’s ancestors for seven generations. The immortal Dao recedes, and after death one sinks into the dark springs, repaying ghostly debts for a long time, and even after ten thousand kalpas it is hard to be pardoned.

The sixth kind of harm is that the body comes into contact with impure things, causing the spiritual pass within the body to lose its brightness, the Five Spirits presiding over the five viscera to fly away, and the Red Child—a Daoist term symbolizing the original Shen—to wander. Malevolent demons then take the opportunity to invade, and both inside and outside are damaged. Cultivating in this way, one originally hoped for accomplishment but instead suffers harm: the true immortals withdraw, and one sinks alone into filth—how can one still hope for immortality?

The seventh kind of harm is eating the flesh of the six domestic animals, killing living beings to satisfy the appetite. The stench fills the viscera and damages the body of life; true Qi is disturbed at the spiritual gate within the body, the wandering Shen is startled, the Hun and Po roam within the bodily mansion, and turbidity stagnates between the mouth and teeth. The immortal hosts ascend to Jade Clarity, while one sinks beneath the earth. Even if one’s name is listed in the mysterious register and recorded by the Emperor Lord, one still cannot avoid failing to attain long life.

The High Sage Emperor Lord said: “The root of cultivating the Dao is first to carefully avoid these seven kinds of harm. Once one has been permitted to gaze upon the Cavern Gate and read the Jade Chapters—the Daoist classics—one need only not violate the prohibitions of the seven harms, and one may sit and wait for the spiritual immortals to descend and ascend to heaven in broad daylight. If one is diligent only in outward cultivation but does not avoid the seven harms within, one will hope for success yet meet failure, hope for long life yet move toward death, seek auspiciousness yet invite misfortune, and desire ascent yet sink. The spiritual immortals roam in the high, clear heavens, while one’s own Five Spirits scatter to the eight directions.”

The desolate Infant cries out in the Middle Mansion (the dwelling within the human body), and the wandering soul laments in the Mysterious Palace (the profound and mysterious place); thus cultivation of the immortal Dao also has its successes and failures. Those who seek advancement in learning will encounter seven kinds of injury; those who are steadfast in cultivation should carefully grasp the true meaning within them.

All those whose divine spirit is extraordinary and who accord with the charts and registers belong to the category of the Jade Fetus (immortal endowment) and Purple Emptiness (the immortal realm); their name registers are recorded in Donghua (a designation in the immortal realm), and only they are qualified to see the inspection text of the “Seven Injuries.” When the documents are examined, if one does not possess this extraordinary divine endowment, one must not presumptuously leaf through the numinous chapters, nor unauthorizedly view the precious writings.

Those able to see this scripture are all people whose mysterious endowments accord with the immortal Dao. After nine years of cultivation, they can overcome obstacles, fly through the mysterious void, and ascend into Jade Clarity (the highest heaven in Daoism).

Yunji Qiqian, Scroll 91