Cultivating the Dao - Introduction to the Dao

CHAPTER FIVE

Cultivating the Dao

Once the human mind dies, the mind of Dao appears.
Master Meng

People look to a master as a guide – someone who can teach them how to live a spiritual life. The master is the living example of the transformation that occurs in a person when he or she cultivates the Dao. By cultivating the Dao, we can live naturally, like the master, following the principle of wu-wei. The key to the cultivation of Dao and attaining the state of wu-wei is a meditation practice that brings one’s consciousness, or awareness, beyond the duality of this material world into unity with the Dao – the primal emptiness.

Many religious traditions and spiritual teachings emphasize the importance of meditation. There are numerous varieties of meditation, including secular practices aimed at calming the mind and creating a sense of well-being, as well as techniques associated with specific religions and spiritual paths. Some people associate breathing practices and silent retreats with meditation; others adopt periods of stillness and inner contemplation, free of any outward practice or ritual. We seem to be living in an era of global anxiety, in which many individuals are engaged in a search for purpose, balance, and an understanding of life. There is Christian meditation, Jewish meditation, Kabbalah meditation, Buddhist meditation, Daoist meditation.

Different techniques tend to use different words to describe the various stages of the practice, including the necessary preparations. Also, the purpose of different types of meditation varies, depending on the intended result. Some aim to calm the mind and enable practitioners to experience inner peace while coping with the stresses of life. Others aim to enable meditators to become detached from outer circumstances and stay true to their inner compass. For many, the goal of meditation is simply to enhance mental, emotional, and physical health. Meditation is commonly used to expand practitioners’ awareness and “mindfulness.” And for some, meditation is a method for freeing the soul from the mind’s encumbrances, enabling it to come in contact with a divine power and perhaps even unite with it in mystical union.

The more one delves into specific techniques, the more one finds common elements – for example, the need to withdraw from outer and inner distractions; to quiet, control, and concentrate the mind; to sit in stillness; and to experience inner peace.

The meditation practices taught by the Chinese Daoists inevitably share many common elements with practices associated with other spiritual traditions. But what is unique is the vocabulary and conceptual framework the Daoists use to describe their teachings and experiences.

Even so, it is difficult to describe the specifics of Daoist meditation, because neither the masters nor the disciples will share their experiences with others. As Master Meng emphasized to me when we met in Beijing, each person’s practice is individual and can’t be copied or adopted by anyone else. It must be taught by a living spiritual master, and it is a secret that is shared solely between master and disciple. However, Master Meng did give some broad hints about what is required to cultivate the Dao. He emphasized that if you bring your attention to the point of concentration, “the mysterious pass,” you will see the light within. It will accompany you all the time. Once that threshold is crossed and that state is attained, you will never lose it.

Master Meng gave me some insights into the principles of the practice, even if not the specifics. He said: “Once the human mind dies, the mind of Dao appears.” One can experience the Dao only when the individual mind gives up, so to speak, and submits to the Dao. The mind is our obstacle. We have to find a master who can guide us on the path of Dao, and we have to adopt an ascetic, solitary lifestyle, at least at the beginning. According to Master Meng, undergoing physical austerities actually changes the functioning of the body. He said that certain outward ascetic practices also help to refine one’s nature and to control and focus the mind.

To repeat a few of his reflections on his inner practice:

Our original nature is connected to immortality, to the formless. It is like a glowing pearl, but through our day to day lives, with all our thoughts and desires, we accumulate dust which covers its original condition. But if we remove this dust, then the pearl will be able to shine again. The term for this method of cultivation is to stabilize our heart and transform our nature (xiangxin huaxing). To stabilize our heart means that we stay tranquil. When we stay tranquil we stop accumulating more dust. And by removing the old dust that we have already accumulated, we transform our nature. So once we’ve removed all the dust from our heart then our true nature is revealed. And our true nature is Dao….

The purpose of sitting in meditation is to still the mind, because our mind throughout the day is not under our control. The practice is undertaken in order to keep the mind controlled. It takes a long time to get into that state.

Daoists emphasize that in our normal state, our spiritual energy flows outward and downward, dissipating into the world. With meditation we can reverse this outward flow of spiritual energy, and attain inward focus and an awareness of the all-pervading and all-encompassing Dao.

The spiritual light is always shining within – it is our essential nature. Unfortunately, the light of our consciousness is easily spread outside, dissipated through our desires, our sensual and intellectual activity, and interactions with others. We need to “turn the light around,” to reverse its illumination, so that it shines within us, awakening our spiritual consciousness, and not allow it to dissipate into the creation. We need to close the inner doorway – the “mysterious pass” – the gate through which the light flows outward and downward into the material world. It is this inner gateway that leads either inward and upward to awareness of the spiritual reality of who we really are or that keeps our focus out in the world. When the doorway is closed, then the light, our attention, stays within and we begin our true spiritual journey. The process of reversing the light is the process of meditation, of cultivation of the Dao.

Another metaphor for realizing our spiritual nature through meditation is “cleansing the dust off the mirror of our heart.” This phrase appears often in Daoist literature, and worldly attachments and involvements are often called the dust of the world. A very early Daoist text called the Nei-yeh often makes this reference.

Nei-yeh
The Nei-yeh (“Inward Training” or “Inner Cultivation”) is one of the earliest texts that documents Chinese meditation techniques. Originally transmitted orally, Nei-yeh was probably written between 350 and 300 BCE. It probably predates even the Daodéjing, the most well known of the early Chinese spiritual classics, and may have influenced both the Daodéjing and Zhuangzi, which were written a century later. Nei-yeh was included in a collection of writings called the Guanzi, assembled in approximately the second century BCE, but it remained nearly unknown and obscure for many centuries, with few people understanding its significance. It was only in the twentieth century that Chinese and western scholars began to appreciate how important it was.

The Nei-yeh focuses almost solely on meditation and does not get involved in philosophical or metaphysical discussions, such as how the creation came about, the principles of yin and yang, and so forth. This confirms that the foundation of Daoism is its inward-directed meditation practice. Scholars who have translated this work for modern readers have declared that Nei-yeh is “the oldest extant expression of a distinctive mystical practice … that is the basis for the entire Daoist tradition from its obscure beginnings in ancient times to the Huainanzi in the mid-second century BCE.”85 Its text emerged from the experiences of the spiritual masters of antiquity and their disciples, who were engaged in mystical practice. Contemporary Daoist practitioners continue to use its spiritual vocabulary.

The entire book of twenty-six passages describes three types of energy or power:

The consciousness of shen, once realized in meditation, is profound; it is an inner awareness of one’s soul, of the Dao, and cannot be spoken of or described. Verse Fourteen of Nei-yeh says: “Within the mind there is yet another mind. That mind within the mind: it is an awareness that precedes words!”

These three types of spiritual energy are essentially one same spiritual power but manifested at different energy centers in the body, and so they are given different names according to the quality at the particular energy centre.** It is assumed that in our ordinary human state, our spiritual energy is scattered throughout our body and is mixed with impurities such as sensual desires, ego, attachments, negativity, and so forth. As we start to refine and withdraw the power or energy towards the higher centers, it becomes purified, shedding all negativity. The energy itself is one and does not change, but the lower in the body that it descends, the more impurities it collects, and so it is described differently.

Daoist teachers have given different names to distinguish between the higher or purer expressions of that energy and their lower or material, physical expression. The meditation practices are intended to collect and withdraw the energy, which is now scattered throughout the body. First, as it withdraws to the lower energy centers, it is transformed into jing, then further transformed to qi at the middle energy center, and then refined further into shen at the higher energy center. The same energy becomes increasingly pure as it rises.

So when jing is refined and becomes purified, it is transformed into qi. When qi is refined and becomes purified it is transformed into shen. While the Indian mystics speak of withdrawing the attention upwards in meditation from one chakra to another, to the eye center and above, the Chinese give the spiritual power or energy a different name at each point in the process. Yet it is basically the same process of withdrawal, of spirit being refined as it withdraws from the physical by reversing the outward flow of the inner light.

Another important term in Nei-yeh (and in all Daoist literature) is xin, which literally means “heart,” but is more like what we sometimes call “awareness,” “focused mind,” or “concentrated consciousness.” Many modern translators call it the “heart-mind,” to suggest the synthesis of mind, intellect, perception, intuition, ego, and emotion.

How does the Nei-yeh refer to meditation? One evocative metaphor is to “clean out the lodging place of the numinous mind.” Verse Thirteen of Nei-yeh states:

There is a numinous (mind) naturally residing within;
One moment it goes, the next it comes,
And no one is able to conceive of it.
If you lose it you are inevitably disordered;
If you attain it you are inevitably well ordered.
Diligently clean out its lodging place
And its vital essence will naturally arrive.
Still your attempts to imagine and conceive of it.
Relax your efforts to reflect on and control it.
Be reverent and diligent
And its vital essence will naturally stabilize.
Grasp it and don’t let go.
Then the eyes and ears won’t overflow
And the mind will have nothing else to seek.
When a properly aligned mind resides within you,
The myriad things will be seen
  in their proper perspective.87

The shen, here called the “numinous mind,” refers to the mind infused with spirit – the layer of the mind directly in touch with the Dao – in other words, the higher consciousness associated with the divine spirit. Similarly, Chapter Ten of the Daodéjing says: “In cleansing your mirror of the profound mystery (the dark mirror), can you make it spotless?” Cleansing the dark mirror means removing the dust of the world and our weaknesses and desires.

The mind is presumed to be inherently pure, but it has gotten covered with dirt. The mind is like a mirror – it reflects (and projects) what is deep inside a person. When there is equanimity within, the xin, the mind, is clear and still – like a mirror, or like water that is undisturbed, with no ripples or turbulence. The mystic cautions against effort that is too intense, as that will cause the mind to be disturbed, to lose its balance. Laozi says to “relax your efforts, … be reverent and diligent, and its vital essence will naturally stabilize.”

Clarity of mind means emptying oneself of the need for outward stimulus and instead finding stillness within – finding the natural balance within oneself and with the external world. When the xin is pure, one can act objectively, without ulterior motive or calculation. This objectivity allows one to remain in the constant, timeless present. This is the stillness that occurs when one acts naturally, without engaging the intellect, when a person is in tune with the Dao.

By emptying the mind to make a “lodging place” for the Dao, people can let go of all desires, fears, thoughts, opinions, calculation, and other emotions and attachments. They can then be receptive to the Dao. That is how one attains tranquility and stillness.

Tranquility and stillness are the source of the meditator’s inner power – a power that comes from being imbued with the Dao within. This is stated at the end of Verse Sixteen:

If people can be aligned and tranquil,
Their skin will be ample and smooth,
Their ears and eyes will be acute and clear,
Their muscles will be supple
  and their bones will be strong.
They will then be able to hold up the Great Circle
  (of the heavens)
And tread firmly over the Great Square
  (of the earth).
They will mirror things with great purity
And will perceive things with great clarity.
Reverently be aware (of the Dao) and do not waver,
And you will daily renew your inner power.88

Dao is everything and everywhere, permanent and compassionate. As Verse Twenty-two of Nei- yeh says:

Of all there is pertaining to Dao,
It is always full and complete,
  deep and concealed;
It is always abundant and vast,
  open and expansive;
It is always indestructible and lasting,
  firm and enduring.
Guard the perfect Dao and never let it go;
  expel all evil and unkindness.89

“Guarding the Dao” is an expression that occurs often in Nei-yeh, as a way of advising us to hold on to our inner spiritual core, our center or axis, which will allow us to go through life without losing our balance. To guard the Dao we have to maintain inner stillness, which is the most important aspect of the meditation practice; it is emphasized in almost half of Nei-yeh’s twenty-six verses. It is achieved after what is called “fourfold aligning” – aligning the body so that the mind can come to stillness.

Although the various commentaries don’t always agree on what the fourfold aligning specifically refers to, scholars have speculated that it means sitting in a posture with the four limbs aligned to one another, with the qi and the mind in control. Verse Eleven explains why the inner aligning is so important, by demonstrating what happens when we are not aligned and are out of balance.

When your body is not aligned,
The inner power will not come.
When you are not tranquil within,
Your mind will not be well-ordered.
Align your body; assist the inner power ().
Then it will gradually come on its own.90

The Nei-yeh has taught for centuries that everything centers on the simple, consistent, daily practice of stilling body and mind, drawing one’s attention within oneself, and giving up all thinking.

The more well-known classic, the Daodéjing, probably composed in the century after the Nei-yeh and attributed to Laozi, urges the Daoist practitioner to seek inner stillness in order to experience communion with the Dao.

Without going out of the door,
  one can know the whole world;
Without peeping out of the window,
  one can see the Dao of heaven.
The further one travels,
  the less one knows.

Therefore, the sage
  knows everything without travelling,
  names everything without seeing it,
  accomplishes everything without doing it.91

Here, the “door” symbolizes the body’s openings or sense organs such as nose, mouth, ears, and so forth. The “window” similarly symbolizes the physical eyes. “The further one travels” represents the scattering of a person’s thoughts and attention into the external world. The true sage discovers everything within himself. Likewise,

The five colors blind the eyes of man;
The five musical notes deafen the ears of man;
The five flavours dull the taste of man;
Horse racing, hunting, and chasing (after things)
  madden the mind of man;
Rare and valuable goods keep their owners awake
  at night.

Therefore, the sage
  provides for the belly (the inner being)
  and not for the eye (the senses).
He accepts the one and rejects the other.92

Laozi is saying that the external sensual pleasures preoccupy the mind without satisfying it, but the sage, the mystic, nurtures the inner being, the spirit, rather than the senses. Mystically the belly refers to the inner being. The sage withdraws the attention from the senses and focuses it on the inner self.

One Daoist master in the thirteenth century advised prolonged sitting in stillness without thinking, in order to enter the inner passageway. He used an amusing analogy:

Sit in stillness and keep your attention focused, without thought, until the exercise is perfected and becomes continuous, all day long, like a hen sitting on her eggs without moving. Then the one opening of the mysterious pass (xuanguan) will automatically reveal itself – so vast, there is no outside; so minute, there is no inside.93

The process of stilling the mind and achieving communion with the Dao cannot be accomplished quickly. It is a long and arduous process, relying on daily effort to achieve concentration.

The Daodéjing suggests we also adopt such an approach whenever we want to accomplish great tasks:

Regard the small as great,
  regard the few as many.
Manage the difficult while they are easy,
  manage the great while they are small.
All difficult things start from the easy,
  all great things in the world start from the small.

The tree that fills a man’s arms
  arises from a tender shoot;
A nine-story tower
  is raised from a heap of earth;
A thousand miles’ journey
  begins from the spot under one’s feet.94

Many centuries later, an anonymous work appeared called The Secret of the Golden Flower. Written by an unknown mystic in the seventeenth century, it is based on the teachings of the eighth-century mystic Lu Dongbin, known as Ancestor Lu, who shared poetic insights on the meditation process. It depicts inner illumination as the flowering of the mind, which occurs when the light of awareness is turned inward towards its source. The rather esoteric and symbolic text explains that, once turned around, this light of awareness becomes the master of the mind as it penetrates through the “mysterious pass” and “ascends nine-skies high,” that is, into the heavens, beyond the influence of worldly conditioning. The innate and natural “spiritual body” then recovers full awareness of its heavenly origin.95

The practice of reversing the light (huiguang) is entirely related to the method of reversal in order to focus on the inherent mind, which dwells within the sun and moon (between the eyes, at the transition between the physical and the spiritual, in the union of yin and yang)…. Confucians call it the “center of emptiness.” Buddhists call it the “plateau of consciousness.” Daoists call it “homeland” (Dao), “yellow court,” “mysterious pass” (xuanguan), and “inherent opening.”

The inherent mind is like a house. The light is the master of the house. When the light is reversed (huiguang), all the body energies focus and ascend…. As long as you focus on reversing the light (huiguang), that is the ultimate profound truth.

The light (guang) is dynamic and difficult to stabilize. Only after it has been reversed for a long time can the light be concentrated and focused in the natural spiritual body so that the spirit can be focused and can ascend nine-skies high (into the heavens)….

The golden flower (jinhua) is the same as the gold elixir (jindan), transformed into spiritual light (shenming) within the mind (xin) of the adept (shi).96

Reversing the flow of yang and yin (the outward and inward flow) will result in each pole, each extreme, reverting to its opposite. Thus, one overcomes duality. The Daoist master Liu Yiming (1734–1821) explained that one’s essential, pure, inner nature is known metaphorically as the golden elixir or jindan, the elixir of immortality. Gold symbolizes its spiritual purity. He described the transcendent subtlety of the gold elixir, calling it the “true seed of your (original) nature and (true spiritual) life”:

You must understand that the true seed of your (original) nature (xing) and (true spiritual) life (ming) is nothing other than the inherent one true Energy that arises from the Origin. You are looking at it, but you do not see it. You are listening to it, but you do not hear it. You are trying to grasp it in your hands, but you do not hold it. It is to be found nowhere but within this very body. It is to be sought nowhere outside the body. It is neither apart from the body, nor attached to the body. It is within the undifferentiated abstruseness and indiscernible profundity, hidden in the realm of silent Emptiness (xuwu).

Internally, it is true emptiness. Externally, it is this amazing existence. It cannot be taught in words; it cannot be depicted by drawing nor written with a pen. If we must draw an image, it would be a simple circle. If we must give it a name, then the Confucians call it the “Great Ultimate (taiji)”; Buddhists call it “complete awareness (yuanjué)”; Daoists call it the “gold elixir (jindan).”

The Great Ultimate, complete awareness, and the gold elixir – although these are three different names, in essence they are the same one thing. This one thing is the true seed of your (original) nature (xing) and (true spiritual) life (ming). To thoroughly investigate the principle is to thoroughly seek this true seed. The meaning of fully developing your (original) nature is to realize fully this true seed. The meaning of attaining (true spiritual) life (ming) is to attain this true seed.97

Master Liu Yiming wrote that when people experience the spiritual light within, they are experiencing their essential spiritual nature or being, which is also referred to as the “immortal valley spirit,” or inner spiritual depth. This is the same as the gold elixir. Master Liu quotes from an eleventh-century work by Master Zhang Boduan, the Wuzhen pian (“Awakening to Reality”): “When you have swallowed a drop of the gold elixir (jindan), then you will know that your life (inner being) does not depend on (your outer) destiny.” Master Liu says:

The valley spirit, the true essence, and the spiritual light are one and the same. The only difference is whether or not they are developed. Students should know that these are not three different things.98

Master Liu also taught that the true self is the spiritual embryo (shengtai) – a metaphor for the essential, original spiritual essence and awareness within oneself and at the heart of all things. This awareness arises from the harmonizing of yin and yang. The pearl-like “grain of millet” also signifies the initial stages of spiritual enlightenment. Like a seed, the spiritual embryo grows naturally when nurtured.

A Treasury of Mystic Terms explains: “Once the light of awareness has been turned around, the entire life of a practitioner is transformed as he becomes the wisdom-giving light itself. Then a practitioner recognizes the Dao in everything.”99 In other words, once the practitioner experiences the light within himself, then the entire creation (within and without) is experienced as light; he himself is the source of the light. The Secret of the Golden Flower is quoted:

The light is neither within the body nor outside the body. Mountains, rivers, the earth, the sun, and the moon are all nothing but this light – so it is not solely within the body. All the functions of intelligence and knowledge are nothing but this light – so it is not solely outside the body. The radiance of heaven and earth pervades the entire creation. The radiance of the body also pervades the body from top to bottom. So when the light is reversed, then everything in creation – heaven and earth, mountains and rivers – all revert (to the light).100

At this stage, all is one, all is Dao – there is no more duality. The light is a positive power that dispels the intrinsic negativity of the mind and automatically detaches it from outer things. Reversing the light results in the mind becoming so pure that it is freed from duality. When the worldly (negative) yin energy is stilled, the spiritual (positive) yang energy will manifest. The Secret of the Golden Flower states:

When the light is reversed and you contemplate within, you will no longer be pulled out by created things; yin energy will be stilled and the radiance of the light will be a concentrated brilliance, which is pure yang.101

When an individual reverses the flow of the spiritual energy in meditation, from outward to inward, this mirrors the flow of the Dao itself, which is perpetually vibrating in a reversive pattern. The Dao is the ultimate nothingness, non-being, but as it flows outwards and downwards from the spiritual realm into the lower material realm, it manifests as the myriad things of the creation. Then, reversing its flow, the Dao returns to its source; the many manifestations revert to the one, which ultimately becomes non-being.

Master Liu Yiming wrote that it is only the truly ardent disciple who disciplines his or her mind and enters the gateway. Similarly, several centuries earlier, Master Li Daochun, using the metaphor of internal alchemy, says that both stilling the body and stilling and emptying the mind require determination and a strong will:

Keeping vital essence (jing) full can preserve the body. To keep vital essence full, you must first still the body. When the body is still, there is no desire, so vital essence is full.

Keeping life energy (qi) full can nurture the mind. To keep energy full, you must first clear and still the mind. When the mind is clear and still, there is no thought, so life energy is full.

Keeping spirit (shen) full you can return to the Void. To keep spirit full, you must first have sincere intention. With sincere intention, body and mind merge (i.e. inner oneness is attained), and you return to the Void.

Therefore, vital essence (jing), life energy (qi), and spirit (shen) are the three fundamental medicines. Body, mind, and intention are the three fundamental essentials.

Learning the method of spiritual immortality does not require much. Simply refine the three treasures of vital essence (jing), life energy (qi), and spirit (shen) in order to generate the elixir. When the three treasures are merged in the central palace, the gold elixir (jindan) is accomplished. Is this not easy to practice? Those who find it difficult to practice and to learn are confused and deceived by false delusions.102

When the practitioner finally manages to enter the mysterious “gateway” by bringing his attention within, spiritual sound and light are experienced. In this way, the poet says, the spirit is restored and returns to emptiness. Master Li Daochun wrote of the ecstasy of spiritual realization:

When the gateway … opens,
  then the practice is complete.
The spirit (shen) exits and enters through here –
  revealing and concealing.
It is restored and returns to emptiness.

From the earth bursts forth a thunderbolt of spring.
At the burst of the thunderbolt,
  heaven and earth open.
Out of emptiness bursts forth
  a globe of radiance,
Round and complete,
  shining on the bamboo hut without lack,
  without surplus.103

Reversing the light is just one of the many metaphors Daoists have used to describe the process of cultivating the Dao. They all emphasize the importance of adopting a discipline of sitting in stillness, while emptying the mind of all external and material distractions and thoughts, in order to enter the spiritual realms. A text from the eleventh or twelfth century called this process of meditation “dwelling in emptiness.”

If you can contemplate the inner realms,
  spirit (shen) will automatically begin
  to make itself known.
This is “dwelling in emptiness” and non-being:
  the place where you can dwell with the sages.104

In his Discourse on Sitting in Forgetfulness, the eighth-century master Sima Chengzhen wrote that dwelling in this “nothingness” results in an empty state of mind, allowing one to merge with the ultimate emptiness of the Dao:

Dwelling in nothingness,
  unattached even to the slightest thing,
  you will spontaneously enter the Void.
Thus will the mind (xin) merge with the Dao.105

Daoist teachers have often used the expression zuowang, translated as “sitting in oblivion” or “sitting in forgetfulness.” It is a state of deep trance or mental absorption, in which a person transcends the ego and removes the mind from all distractions – both outer and inner – and becomes absorbed in experiencing the Dao. The term was first used in the Zhuangzi and is found in many later texts also. It is similar to “fasting of the mind” and simply “quiet sitting.”

Sitting in Forgetfulness (Zuowang)
The writings of Zhuangzi contain the earliest recorded references to zuowang. In a humorous, imaginary dialogue between Confucius and his favorite disciple, Yan Hui, the disciple ironically turns the tables on his master by teaching him how to “sit and forget.”

Yan Hui said, “I’m improving!”
Confucius said, “What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve forgotten benevolence and righteousness!”
“That’s good. But you still haven’t got it.”

Another day, the two met again, and Yan Hui said,
“I’m improving!”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve forgotten rites and music!”
“That’s good. But you still haven’t got it.”

Another day, the two met again, and Yan Hui said,
“I’m improving!”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I can sit down and forget everything!”

Confucius looked very startled and said, “What do you mean, sit down and forget everything?”

Yan Hui said, “I smash up my limbs and body,†† drive out perception and intellect, cast off my physical form, do away with intellect and understanding, and merge with the Great Thoroughfare (the inner path). This is what I mean by sitting down and forgetting everything.”

Confucius said, “When you’re merged with the universal Oneness, you have no more likes and dislikes! When you’ve been transformed, you are no longer subject to constant change! So this is truly a worthy practice after all! With your permission, I’d like to become your follower.”106

Once he has overcome his body and mind and merged in the universal oneness of Dao, the practitioner is no longer subject to separation or illusion. When he is spiritually transformed, he is not affected by the changes inherent in the creation. By becoming one with Dao, he becomes eternal.

In another story, Zhuangzi tells us about how a bell stand carver was able to carve the perfect bell stand – by forgetting all distractions and becoming totally immersed in the wood he was carving. When Zhuangzi talks about “fasting” here, he is referring to the fasting of his mind.

Woodworker Qing carved a piece of wood and made a bell stand, and when it was finished, everyone who saw it marveled, for it seemed to be the work of gods or spirits. When the marquis of Lu saw it, he asked, “What art is it you have?”

Qing replied, “I am only a craftsman – how would I have any art? There is one thing, however. When I am going to make a bell stand, I never let it wear out my energy. I always fast in order to still my mind. When I have fasted for three days, I no longer have any thought of congratulations or rewards, of titles or stipends. When I have fasted for five days, I no longer have any thought of praise or blame, of skill or clumsiness. And when I have fasted for seven days, I am so still that I forget I have four limbs and a form and body. By that time, the ruler and his court no longer exist for me. My skill is concentrated and all outside distractions fade away.

After that, I go into the mountain forest and examine the heavenly nature of the trees. If I find one of superlative form, and I can see a bell stand there, I put my hand to the job of carving; if not, I let it go. This way I am simply matching up “Heaven” with “Heaven.” (That is, matching up his innate nature with that of the tree.) That’s probably the reason that people wonder if the results were not made by spirits.”107

Daoists emphasize the importance of regular daily meditation practice in the early morning. Then one can act in the world with detachment. The more one turns within (“reversing the light”), the more the mind is freed from the disturbance of thoughts and emotional reactions. To quote from the anonymous Secret of the Golden Flower:

As you follow the practice of reversing the light (huiguang), do not neglect your duties. One of the ancients said: “Attend to affairs as they come and leave them as they go. See things for what they are as they come along.”

Attend to affairs with an upright attitude, and then the light (guang) will not be drawn to things and will be automatically reversed. This is the practice of reversing the light at all times in order to empty (the mind of) forms….

If, during the day, you can keep turning within (fanzhao, “reversing the radiance”) while attending to things, staying completely detached from others and the self, this is reversing the light wherever you are. This is the most sublime aspect of the practice.

It is best to sit in meditation for one to two hours in the early morning in order to clear away all worldly connections. Practice the method of turning within at all times without interruption while dealing with affairs and attending to things. Keep up the practice for two to three months, and then the sages in the heavens will surely appear before you in affirmation.108

On a practical level, Daoist masters have advised their disciples how to live in the world, in accord with the Dao. For example, Master Ma Yu (also known as Ma Danyang, disciple of Wang Zhe, founder of the Quanzhen lineage in the twelfth century) teaches that the practitioner’s daily life should not be regarded as separate from his spiritual training. At the same time, the practitioner’s spiritual training should not be considered separate from his daily life. Rather, a disciplined, integrated approach to both self-cultivation and spiritual realization is essential.109

Daily practice involves never deceiving or mocking heaven and earth. Always train yourself diligently. Cherish every moment. Do not pass the day in vain. Decrease your sleep, since sleep is something desired by ordinary folk. Rectify your misdeeds, but not only through seated meditation (dazuo). Hold your mind still for long periods of time.

Whether walking, standing, sitting or lying down, follow the Dao. All adepts should cease giving rise to thoughts. Quickly discover your (original) nature (xing) and (true spiritual) life (ming). If you can just purify the mind and abandon desires, you will become a spirit immortal. Concern yourself with nothing else and stop entertaining doubts! These are true and proper words. You need to be always clear (qing) and always pure (jing). Practice this diligently.110

In the same discourse, master Ma Yu goes on to emphasize that it is misleading to think that spiritual transformation can be attained solely by internal practice. Self- cultivation involves the constant application of both internal and external practices in the effort to attain complete clarity and stillness.111

Every day, do not forget the matter of daily practice. Daily practice is of two kinds: daily external practice and daily internal practice.

Considering daily external practice, you are firmly forbidden to see the faults of others, to boast about your own virtue, to envy the wise and talented, to permit the rise of worldly thoughts, which are the fire of ignorance, to allow feelings of superiority over the masses to arise, to discriminate between self and others or between right and wrong, or to speak of love and hatred.

Considering daily internal practice, give up entertaining thoughts of doubt. Never forget the internal. Whether moving about or standing or sitting, you should keep the mind pure and discard desire.

Let nothing burden you or stand in your way. Do not become impure and do not cling. In perfect clarity and perfect purity, move about freely, as you wish.

Consistently, throughout the day, contemplate the Dao in the same way that a hungry person thinks of food or a thirsty person thinks of drink. If you become aware of the slightest imbalance (in your mind), you must correct it. If you train yourself in this way, you will become a spiritual immortal.112

Master Liu Yiming added that spiritual practice does not require complete escape from society. Practicing the path “with your feet firmly on the ground” indicates the significance of refining one’s whole being while leading a normal life. This requires a consistent and all-inclusive approach to self-cultivation – the practice of meditation combined with being a good human being. By living in this way, disciples gear their entire life toward the goal of realizing the Dao:

The path of true eternity is not to avoid the world or run away from life, nor to meditate or stop thoughts. You must tread the path with your feet firmly on the ground (i.e., while living in the world), work hard at putting the practice into action, and cultivate refinement within the great furnace of creation. Only then is it true and eternal.113

The “100 Character Tablet,” also called Bai zi bei, is attributed to the eighth-century Daoist known as Ancestor Lu (Lu Dongbin). It is a poetic guide to the inner experience of meditation, and takes the reader from the simple practice of sitting in stillness and controlling mind and energy to the point where one recognizes one’s true origin as Dao. It refers to the inner ascent on the holy Mount Sumeru, where the nectar flows. The meditator has an inner vision of the “white cloud” and drinks the nectar of immortality. He or she hears “stringless melodies” – the inner music created without instruments – the unstruck sound. The translation below is an amalgam of several translations.

Silently sit and observe, cultivate your energy,
Practice wu-wei to calm the mind (xin).
Thus in activity or in stillness,
  you become aware of your true origin.
In nothingness, what more there is to seek?

The true self is unchanging, yet you can adapt to all.
And in adapting, do not become infatuated
  with the material world.
When you are not infatuated,
  your inner nature (xing) can remain still.

When your inner nature is still, your qi energy
  returns to its origin automatically.
When energy returns, the elixir crystallizes on its own.

Apply water and fire in the pot;§
  let yin and yang rise, alternating over and over,
  until all is transformed into a strike of thunder.

You ascend like a white cloud to the summit.
You shower in sweet nectar from Mount Sumeru.
You drink the nectar of immortality.
Such is the freedom that is understood by no one.

Sit and listen to the stringless melodies.
The secrets of creation and transformation
  become clear and understood.
These twenty verses in their entirety
  are the true ladder leading to heaven.


* Verse 8 of the Nei-yeh declares: “The vital essence (jing): it is the essence of the vital energy (qi).” Roth, Inward Training, p. 101.
** In Nei-yeh, the term Dao sometimes was interchanged with shen and even qi. Ultimately there is one energy or life force experienced at different levels and from different perspectives. As the entry Neiye in Wikipedia states: “The ancient Neiye … is the earliest known text that explains self-cultivation through daily, practiced regulation of a group of life forces; namely, qi “vital energy” (the universal force that gives life to all things), jing “vital essence” (one’s innate reservoir of qi), xin “heart-mind,” shen “spirit; spiritual consciousness,” dao “the Way,” and de “inner power.” These terms later became keywords in Chinese philosophy, but the Neiye sometimes used them idiosyncratically, for instance, dao was effectively interchangeable with shen and qi.” (Kirkland 2008: 771).
Translators have used a range of terms. Most compelling are: “profound mirror” (Henricke), “profound insight” (Wing Tsit Chan), “dark mirror” (Red Pine), etc.
†† Meaning, I become oblivious to my physical body.
§ A metaphor for various energies and elements activated during meditation.