Zhang Boduan's Preface

1 Alas! The human body is hard to obtain, and our days swiftly pass. We cannot measure the length of our lives; how can we escape the recompense of our deeds? If we do not awaken in good time, we merely resign ourselves to waiting for the end. Should a single thought go astray at the parting of the ways and plunge us into the three evil paths, we may pass through countless eons without any prospect of release. What use would remorse be then? Thus the teachings of Laozi and the Buddha opened the gate of expedient means through the study of nature and life, instructing people in cultivation to escape birth and death. The Buddhists take emptiness and stillness as their principle: sudden, complete awakening brings one directly to the farther shore, but if habitual defilements remain, one is still bound to rebirth. The followers of Laozi take refinement and nurture as their truth: whoever grasps the essential key immediately ascends to the rank of sages, but whoever has not understood original nature remains entangled in the illusory body. Moreover, the Book of Changes speaks of “exhausting principle, fulfilling nature, and arriving at destiny”; the sayings of Lu speak of “no conjectures, no insistence, no obstinacy, no self.” Thus Confucius, too, reached the deepest mysteries of nature and life. Why, then, are his words generally brief rather than detailed? Because he sought to order human relations and teach humanity, righteousness, ritual, and music, he did not explicitly speak of the Way of nonaction. Instead, he concealed the arts of life within the images of the Changes and the methods of nature within subtle sayings. Zhuangzi's probing of the burdens of things and the nature of free wandering, and Mencius's skill in nurturing the vast, flowing breath, also come close to the essential point. Later, in the Han, Wei Boyang drew upon the interwoven patterns of the Way of the Changes and wrote the Cantongqi to illuminate the workings of the Great Elixir. The Tang dynasty National Preceptor Zhong first set forth the sayings of Laozi and Zhuangzi in his recorded discourse to reveal the beginning and end of the supreme Way. Is it not clear that, though the teachings are divided into three, their Way returns to one? Yet later generations of Daoists and Buddhists each clung to their own school and condemned the others. Thus the essential principles of all three traditions have been lost in errant paths, unable to merge and return together.Now people suppose that the Daoist school prizes the cultivation of life, without realizing that the methods for cultivating life fall into two kinds: those easy to encounter but hard to accomplish, and those hard to encounter but easy to accomplish. Refining the breath of the five sprouts, taking in the light of the seven luminaries, visualization and massage, breathing in the pure and breathing out the turbid, reciting scriptures and sustaining spells, spraying water and commanding talismans, clicking the teeth to gather spirits, abandoning one's wife and abstaining from grain, preserving the spirits and holding the breath, directing thought between the brows to replenish the brain and return the essence, practicing bedroom arts, and even ingesting and refining metals, minerals, herbs, and trees: all are easy to encounter but hard to accomplish. Most of these methods are inadequate for cultivating the body. Though much effort is spent on them, their results never prove reliable. If pursued with painstaking resolve, day and night, they can at best ward off illness and prevent untimely harm. Once the practice stops, its earlier gains gradually vanish. Years are drawn out in a task that must be hard to complete. How much harder to hope to obtain something once and possess it forever, return to infancy and reverse old age, transform oneself and fly upward! It is deeply lamentable. Practitioners in recent times cling to delusions; not understanding the truth of the wondrous method, they accuse the immortals of empty talk. They fail to realize that all who attained the Way did so by refining the golden elixir, but, fearing to disclose heaven's secret, gave other practices as a pretext. Among them, only holding the breath, if one can forget contrivance and put an end to thoughts, bears some resemblance to the meditation of the Two Vehicles; practiced diligently, it can lead one out of concentration and send forth the spirit. But spirit and essence belong to yin, and their dwelling is difficult to secure; one must continually resort to moving house. Without the way of returning gold and mercury, how could one restore yang, exchange one's bones, and ascend to heaven in broad daylight?Refining the golden liquor and returned elixir, by contrast, is hard to encounter but easy to accomplish. One must thoroughly understand yin and yang and deeply comprehend transformation; only then can one raise the two breaths above the yellow path, bring the three natures together in the primal palace, gather the five phases, and unite the four images. Dragon sings, tiger roars; husband leads and wife follows. The jade cauldron boils; the golden furnace blazes. At last the dark pearl takes shape and the Supreme One returns to the true. All this takes only a moment's work, securing boundless joy forever. As for guarding against danger, carefully drawing off and adding in, nurturing what is right and preserving fullness, the crucial thing is to keep to the feminine and embrace the One. Naturally the breath of returning yang will arise and strip away the deadly form of yin. When the seasonal breaths have completed their cycle, one leaves the womb and undergoes divine transformation: one's name is entered on the rolls of immortals, and one's rank is that of a True Person. This is the moment when a great person has achieved both work and renown.Today's students take lead and mercury to be the two breaths, identify the organs as the five phases, divide heart and kidneys into Li and Kan, make liver and lungs dragon and tiger, take spirit and breath for mother and child, and insist that bodily fluids are lead and mercury. They do not recognize what floats and what sinks; how then could they distinguish host from guest? How is this different from claiming another's wealth as one's own, or calling a stranger's child one's son? How could they know the hidden intricacies of metal and wood overcoming each other, or the marvel of yin and yang working through each other? Their sun and moon have lost their courses, their lead and mercury lie in different furnaces. Is it not far-fetched to hope to make the returned elixir this way?From youth I was drawn to the Way and ranged through the scriptures of the three teachings, as well as law and punishment, writing and calculation, medicine and divination, military strategy, astronomy and geography, and the arts concerning good fortune, misfortune, life, and death; there was none I did not investigate closely. As for the golden elixir alone, I read all the scriptures and the various masters' songs, poems, treatises, and covenants. All spoke of the sun's soul and moon's spirit, the geng tiger and jia dragon, mercury and cinnabar, white gold and black tin, the Kan male and Li female, as able to make the golden liquor and returned elixir. Yet none ever said what true lead and true mercury actually are, or explained the rules of the fire's timing and the direction of gentle nurture. Later deluded followers indulged their own speculation and recklessly annotated the sacred teachings of the former sages. Their errors took ten thousand forms: they not only disordered the scriptures of immortality but also misled later students. Because I had not met an accomplished master and could not find the oral instructions, I lost all ease in sleeping and eating, and my spirit grew weary. Though I searched across seas and mountains and sought instruction from wise and foolish alike, none could explain the true teaching and illuminate my heart.Then in the jiyou year of Xining I followed Lord Lu of the Dragon Diagram to Chengdu. As my old resolve had never wavered and my first sincerity grew ever stronger, I moved a True Person to impart the instructions for the substances and fire's timing of the golden elixir. His words were very few, his essentials uncomplicated: one could follow the stream and know its source, hear one thing and understand a hundred. It was as if fog lifted and the sun shone clear, dust fell away and the mirror gleamed. Compared with the scriptures of immortality, his words matched like the two halves of a tally. I reflected that eight or nine in ten of the people of this world study immortality, but I had not heard of even one or two who reached its true essentials. Having found the true key, how could I dare keep silent? I poured out all I had gained in eighty-one regulated poems, nine times nine, entitled Chapters on Awakening to Truth. Among them are sixteen seven-character poems of four rhymes, representing the number two times eight; sixty-four quatrains corresponding to the hexagrams of the Book of Changes; and a single five-character poem symbolizing the Supreme One. I later added twelve songs to the tune “Moon over the Western River,” completing the year's cycle. All the matters of the cauldron and vessel, their higher and lower roles, the weights of the substances, the advance and retreat of the fire's timing, the order of host and guest, presence and absence, and good fortune, misfortune, regret, and shame are included. As for what remained unsaid about the true awakening of original nature, I also wrote songs, hymns, song lyrics, and pieces in varied meters, appended to the end of the book. I hope the way to reach the root and illuminate nature is thus fully expressed. I hope that kindred spirits, on reading it, will see the branches and awaken to the root, abandon illusion and follow truth. Prefaced by Zhang Boduan, Pingshu of Tiantai, on New Year's Day of the yimao year of Xining.

1 Alas, a human body is hard to obtain, and time passes easily. We cannot predict how long we will live, and how can we escape the results of our deeds? Yet people fail to wake up early and simply accept their lot and wait for death. If one thought goes wrong at the crossroads of death and we fall into the three bad paths of rebirth, we may pass through countless ages with no time of escape. What good will regret do then? So the teachings of Laozi and the Buddha opened ways of practice concerning our nature and life, teaching people to cultivate the means to escape birth and death. The Buddhists take emptiness and stillness as their main principle. With sudden, complete understanding, one crosses directly to the other shore; if ingrained faults remain, one still follows the cycle of birth. The followers of Laozi take refinement and nourishment as the true practice. If one grasps its essential point, one can immediately reach the rank of a sage; if one has not understood one's basic nature, one remains caught in an illusory body. The Book of Changes also speaks of examining principles, fulfilling one's nature, and reaching life's destiny. The Sayings of Lu speaks of having no private opinions, fixed expectations, stubbornness, or self-centeredness. These too show Confucius's deep understanding of nature and life. Why, then, are his statements usually brief rather than detailed? He wanted to put human relationships in proper order and teach kindness, justice, ritual, and music. He therefore never spoke openly of the way of nonaction, but placed the arts of life within the images of the Changes and mixed teachings about nature into his brief sayings. Zhuangzi's inquiry into how things burden us and how our nature can move freely, and Mencius's skill in nurturing an expansive vital energy, both come close to the point. Later, in the Han, Wei Boyang used the structure of the Changes in which the way joins and combines things to write the Cantongqi and explain how the great elixir works. The Tang master Zhong, in his recorded sayings, began by recounting the words of Laozi and Zhuangzi to show the basis and course of the highest way. Does this not mean that although the teachings are divided into three, the way comes back to one? Unfortunately, later Taoist and Buddhist practitioners each kept to their own school and criticized the others. Thus the main teachings of the three schools became lost among wrong paths, unable to join and reach the same end. People today think the Taoist school concentrates on cultivating life, but do not realize its methods take two forms: those easy to encounter but hard to complete, and those hard to encounter but easy to complete. Refining the breath of the five sprouts, taking in the light of the seven luminaries, concentrating the mind and massaging the body, breathing in clean air and breathing out stale air, reciting scriptures and spells, spraying water and commanding talismans, clicking the teeth to gather the spirits, leaving one's wife and stopping food, visualizing spirits and holding the breath, directing the thought between the eyebrows to replenish the brain and restore the essence, practicing sexual arts, and consuming or refining metals, stones, plants, and trees: all these are easy to encounter but hard to complete. Most of these methods are inadequate for cultivating the body. Though one makes great efforts, one sees no reliable results. If one practices diligently day and night, they can only ward off illness and avoid unexpected harm. Stop for a day, and previous gains gradually disappear. Time drags on, and the task is bound to be difficult. How much harder to gain a lasting achievement, return to infancy and turn back old age, transform, and fly up to heaven! This is deeply distressing. Practitioners of recent times cling blindly to their views, fail to understand the true, subtle method, and blame the immortals for making empty claims. They do not know that everyone who attained the way did so by refining the golden elixir, but, afraid to reveal heaven's secrets, used other practices as cover. Of these, only holding the breath, if one can forget one's intentions and stop thinking, somewhat resembles the Buddhists' meditation. Persistent practice can bring one out of meditative absorption and release the spirit. But spirit belongs to yin, and its dwelling cannot be made secure; one cannot avoid repeatedly moving it to another home. Without attaining the way of returning gold and mercury, how could one bring back yang, change one's bones, and rise to heaven in daylight? Refining the returned elixir of liquid gold, however, is hard to encounter but easy to complete. One must thoroughly understand yin and yang and the processes of nature. Only then can one lift the two energies onto the yellow path, bring the three natures together in the original palace, gather the five phases and unite the four forms. The dragon calls and the tiger roars; the husband leads and the wife follows. Liquid boils in the jade cauldron, and fire blazes in the gold furnace. Then the dark pearl begins to take shape and the Great One returns to its true state. All this takes only a short while and ensures endless ease and joy. To guard against dangers, one must handle removal and addition carefully, nourish what is right, and maintain fullness. The key is to keep the receptive female principle and hold to the one. Then the energy of returning yang naturally grows and the harmful form of yin is stripped away. Once the cycle of seasons is complete, one leaves the womb and undergoes spiritual transformation; one's name enters the register of immortals and one gains the rank of a true person. This is when a person has completed the work and gained the reward. Some students today take lead and mercury to mean the two energies, the internal organs to mean the five phases, the heart and kidneys to mean Kan and Li, and the liver and lungs to mean dragon and tiger. They use spirit and energy for mother and child, and mistake bodily fluids for lead and mercury. They cannot tell floating from sinking, much less host from guest. This is like claiming someone else's property as your own and calling a stranger's child your own. How could they know the hidden workings of metal and wood overcoming each other or the subtle mutual use of yin and yang? For all of them, sun and moon are off course, lead and mercury are in separate furnaces. Hoping to form the returned elixir in this way is far from realistic! From childhood I was drawn to the way. I read the scriptures of the three teachings, and carefully studied law, writing and calculation, medicine and divination, military formations, astronomy, geography, and arts concerned with fortune, misfortune, life, and death. In my search for the method of the golden elixir, I read all the scriptures and the songs, poems, discussions, and treatises of many authors. All spoke of the sun's soul and moon's spirit, the tiger of geng and dragon of jia, mercury and cinnabar, white gold and black tin, the boy of Kan and girl of Li, as the means of making the returned elixir of liquid gold. But none said what true lead and true mercury actually were, or explained the rules for timing the fire or how to warm and nurture the result. Later confused followers added their own guesses and wrongly annotated the teachings of the former sages. Their countless errors not only confused the immortals' scriptures but misled later students. Since I had not met an accomplished teacher and could not find oral instructions, I could neither sleep nor eat peacefully, and my spirit grew exhausted. Though I sought answers everywhere, from sea to mountains, and asked everyone, wise and foolish, no one could explain the true teaching and open my understanding. Then, in the jiyou year of the Xining era, I accompanied Lord Lu of the Dragon Diagram Office to Chengdu. Because I held fast to my old aim and grew even more sincere, I moved a true person to give me the instructions for the ingredients and timing of the golden elixir. His words were very simple and their essential point was not complicated. By pointing to the current, he let me know its source; by saying one thing, he made me understand a hundred. It was like fog clearing and sunlight shining, or dust wiped away from a mirror. Compared with the immortals' scriptures, his words fitted them like two halves of a tally. I reflected that eight or nine out of ten people in the world study immortality, but hardly one or two have understood the true essentials. Having found the true key, how could I keep silent? I put all I learned into eighty-one regulated poems, nine times nine, and called them Chapters on Awakening to Reality. Within them are sixteen eight-line poems with seven characters per line, representing two eights; sixty-four quatrains, corresponding to the hexagrams of the Book of Changes; and one five-character poem, symbolizing the Great One. I added twelve songs to the tune Xijiangyue to complete the year's cycle. The poems cover the relative standing of cauldron and vessel, the weights of the ingredients, how to advance and withdraw the fire, which is host and which is guest and which comes first, existence and nonexistence, and good fortune, bad fortune, regret, and trouble. Because I had not fully dealt with the true awareness of our original nature, I also composed songs, lyrics, and other verses and attached them at the end of the volume, hoping thereby to give a full account of understanding the source and knowing our nature. I hope like-minded readers will see the outward detail and understand its basis, reject illusion, and follow what is true. Written by Zhang Boduan, Pingshu, of Tiantai, on New Year's Day of the yimao year of the Xining era.