Annotations on Patriarch Lü Dongbin's Commentary on the Hundred-Character Stele

1. Preface to Patriarch Lü's Commentary on the Hundred-Character Stele

Patriarch Lü Chunyang is the most compassionate sage and worthy of the Taoist tradition. From the Tang dynasty to the present, over a thousand years, he has sometimes been hidden and sometimes manifest, his hiding and appearing beyond reckoning, warning the foolish and transforming the worthy; the poems, lyrics, songs, and rhapsodies of his that circulate in the world are beyond counting. Of those that speak specifically of the sequence of cultivating perfection, and in which nothing concerning the ingredients and the fire timing is left out, none surpasses the Song of Striking the Lines (Qiaoyao Ge) and the Hundred-Character Stele (Baizi Bei); and of these, the one whose words are concise and whose principles are clear, and which most easily opens the mind of the reader, is again the Hundred-Character Stele. It has only a hundred characters and only twenty lines, yet it discusses the elixir method, both with action and without action, the completion of life and the completion of nature, from beginning to end. It is called a ladder to heaven, and truly it is a ladder to heaven. Yet although it is a ladder to heaven, those in the world who cultivate perfection do not regard it as one; most of them seek the marvelous and love the strange, and cast this text aside because it contains nothing marvelous or strange. Little do they know that the way of the Golden Elixir, the way of true constancy, holds within the unmarvelous that which is most marvelous, and within the unstrange that which is greatly strange; people of our time simply have not reflected deeply on it. What this text speaks of at the beginning is no more than nurturing qi, subduing the mind, and settling one's nature—what is marvelous or strange about that? Yet the fruits of practicing it are that one can form the elixir, ingest the elixir, wander free and at ease, and penetrate the workings of creation—is that not most marvelous and greatly strange? Ah! Unmarvelous yet marvelous, unstrange yet strange. If students can plumb the depths and examine the subtleties of the Patriarch's words of the Dharma and advance step by step, none will fail to go deep and attain it for themselves. In reading this text I have benefited greatly, and I lament that there is such a ladder to heaven and yet people do not recognize it, gravely failing the Patriarch's painstaking intention to save the world. Therefore, beneath each line I have added a few words of annotation to bring out its subtleties, hoping to find kindred spirits who will climb the ladder to heaven together, and so repay the Patriarch's kindness.

Written as his own preface by Supu Sanren in the Nest of Ease, on the third day of the third month of the third year of the Jiaqing era, a Wuwu year (1798).

2. The Hundred-Character Stele

Lü Yan (Lü Chunyang), Tang dynasty

Nurture qi, forget speech and guarding; subdue the mind, acting without acting.

In movement and stillness know the ancestral source; with nothing to do, whom else would you seek?

True constancy must respond to things; in responding to things, do not be deluded.

Undeluded, nature settles of itself; nature settled, qi returns of itself.

Qi returned, the elixir forms of itself; within the vessel, pair Kan and Li.

Yin and yang give rise to turning and returning; everywhere transformed at a single clap of thunder.

White clouds pay court at the summit; sweet dew sprinkles Mount Sumeru.

Drinking alone the wine of long life, who can know my free and easy wandering?

Seated, I listen to a stringless tune, and clearly penetrate the workings of creation.

Altogether these twenty lines are truly a ladder to heaven.

3. Commentary on the Hundred-Character Stele

Nurture Qi, Forget Speech and Guarding

The way of nature and life, from beginning to end, is nothing but the cultivation and nurturing of the prior-heaven, empty, true, and unified qi; there is nothing else. When gathering the medicine, what is gathered is this; when refining the medicine, what is refined is this; when returning the elixir, what returns is this; when releasing the elixir, what is released is this; when ingesting the elixir, what is ingested is this; when forming the embryo, what is formed is this; when shedding the embryo, what is shed is this. When one prolongs life by technique, what is prolonged is this; when one keeps the body whole by the Tao, what is kept whole is this. At the beginning there is action, and what acts is this; at the end there is non-action, and what does not act is this. In long life, what lives long is this; in no-birth, what is without birth is this. An ancient scripture says: “Know the One, and the ten thousand affairs are done.” This saying can settle a thousand scriptures and ten thousand scrolls. But this qi is neither form nor emptiness; it has no shape and no image. It cannot be known by knowing, nor recognized by recognition. Looked at, it is not seen; listened to, it is not heard; grasped at, it is not caught. Vague and elusive, dim and dark, it cannot be described. If one is forced to draw it, it is just this: ○. If one is forced to name it, the Confucians call it the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), the Taoists call it the Golden Elixir, and the Buddhists call it Perfect Enlightenment. Originally it cannot be spoken of—so what is there to guard? If it could be spoken of and guarded, it would not be the prior-heaven qi of emptiness and nothingness, but the later-heaven qi of breathing. Prior-heaven qi endures through ten thousand kalpas without decay; later-heaven qi exists or ceases with the illusory body. Those in the world who have not received the true transmission do not know what prior-heaven qi is, and mistake it for the tangible qi of later heaven. Some say it is in the Sea of Qi, some in the elixir field (dantian), some in the Yellow Court, some in the Conception and Governing Vessels, some between the two kidneys. Some close the mouth and regulate the breath to even out the qi; some hold the breath and fix embryonic breathing to store the qi; some move it up the back and down the front into the Yellow Court to gather the qi. Some guard it, some circulate it; the methods vary, and all of them hope, in vain, to form the elixir. Let me ask: where, in the end, will this tangible qi congeal? And what shape will it take when it congeals? Must it not congeal into a lump of qi? Again and again one sees that those in the world who guard the upper region mostly get leakage of the brain; those who guard the lower region mostly get leakage below; those who guard the middle mostly get bloating; those who guard the bright hall (mingtang) lose their sight; those who guard the stubborn mind develop madness. Seeking long life, they instead hasten their death—how lamentable! Little do they know that the prior-heaven qi of emptiness and nothingness embraces heaven and earth and gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things. So great that nothing lies outside it, so small that nothing lies within it; let loose, it fills the six directions; rolled up, it withdraws and hides in secrecy. It can only be known, not spoken of; it can only be nurtured, not guarded. Without speech and without guarding, speech and guarding both forgotten, nurturing without nurturing—this is to enter the samadhi of nurturing qi. The Great Tao is lively and vibrant and does not fall within the boundaries of being or non-being. To fall into being is to cling to form; to fall into non-being is to cling to emptiness. Clinging to form and clinging to emptiness are neither the Tao of the flowing transformations of heaven and earth nor the Tao of the sages' true emptiness and wondrous being. To say “nurture qi” means there must be something nurtured, so one does not cling to emptiness; to say “forget speech and guarding” means there must be no fixed place and no fixed position, so one does not cling to form. Clinging neither to emptiness nor to form, there must be a nurturing that is neither empty nor form. This nurturing that is neither empty nor form is “still and unmoving, yet when stirred it penetrates”; stirred and penetrating, it remains still and unmoving. Herein lies the way of nurturing qi.

Subdue the Mind, Acting Without Acting?

Above it was said that in nurturing qi there is no speech and no guarding, as though nothing at all were to be done. Now, after a person is born, the prior-heaven qi is full; but when yang reaches its peak it must turn to yin. Who at this point can preserve the prior-heaven qi without losing it, except the sage of superior virtue? As for the rest, people of middling and lower capacity, once they cross into later heaven, the prior-heaven qi goes into hiding and the later-heaven qi takes charge; yang gradually wanes and yin gradually grows, the roots of defilement accumulated over many kalpas all burst forth, the temperament of the whole body is stirred, the conscious spirit runs wild, and intruding pathogens create chaos. At such a time the whole body of the four elements is yin, and one does not know what the yang essence is. Even if one wants to nurture qi, there is nowhere to nurture it, and one cannot nurture it properly. The Patriarch's Rhapsody of the Yellow Crane says: “Those of superior virtue keep their form whole by the Tao, for their pure Qian has not yet been broken; those of inferior virtue prolong their life by technique, and succeed only by pairing Kan and Li.” Keeping the body whole by the Tao is a matter of non-action; prolonging life by technique is a matter of action. In people of superior virtue the prior-heaven qi has not been lost; with a body of pure yang, they guard the center and embrace the One, and can thereby keep their original true form whole. In people of middling and lower capacity the prior-heaven qi has already been harmed and the yang has sunk into the yin; they must steal yin and yang and seize the workings of creation, first securing the foundation of life, and proceed from action into non-action; only then can they attain perfection. Again, an ancient immortal said: “Returning the elixir is easiest; refining the self is hardest.” And the lyric to the tune “Qinyuan Chun” says: “For the sevenfold returning of the elixir, one must first refine the self and await the right time.” In the work of refining the self, nothing comes before subduing the mind. But to subdue the mind one must understand the mind. The mind is divided into the human mind and the mind of the Tao, and distinguished as the true mind and the false mind. The mind of the Tao is the mind that originally neither discerns nor knows, and follows the laws of the Lord on High; it is the true mind. The human mind is the later-arising mind that discerns and knows, with its seven emotions and six desires; it is the false mind. The true mind benefits one's nature and life; the false mind harms one's nature and life. To subdue the mind is to subdue the falseness of the human mind. Yet subduing the human mind is not guarding the mind or emptying the mind, nor is it forcibly fixing the mind; one must follow its natural course. Awakening to Perfection (Wuzhen Pian) says: “Follow its desires and guide it gradually.” These two phrases are the wondrous secret of subduing the mind. Hence it says: “subdue the mind, acting without acting.” “Acting” means the mind must be subdued; “without acting” means it is not to be subdued by force. Subduing yet not subduing, not subduing yet subduing: within use there is the useless, and within no-effort effort is applied. For the stubborn mind of a person, its accumulated habits having become second nature, is like a lump of hard iron forged in fire, utterly firm and unbreakable. If one binds it too tightly, one is using the mind to control the mind; the more mind there is, the harder the lump becomes, and a disease of the mind arises instead. This is what the Yellow Emperor's Classic of the Hidden Talisman (Yinfu Jing) means by “Fire is born from wood; when disaster breaks out, it must overcome.” Therefore, subduing the mind requires the work of gradual cultivation to succeed. The work of gradual cultivation does no harm to the other and brings benefit to oneself: this is acting without acting.

In Movement and Stillness Know the Ancestral Source; With Nothing to Do, Whom Else Would You Seek?

The prior-heaven true and unified qi is the ancestral qi that gives birth to heaven, to earth, and to humankind. There is no principle it does not contain and no time when it is not present; it is what is called the ancestral source of nature and life. Those who preserve it are sages; those who are blind to it are ordinary people. But once this qi falls into later heaven, it is hidden and does not appear; and even if it does appear, people, drawn by fame and gain and disturbed by selfish desires, let it slip by before their very eyes—no sooner had than lost. To seek this qi, one must first recognize the mind of the Tao, for the prior-heaven qi is stored within the mind of the Tao. The mind of the Tao is the substance, the prior-heaven qi is the function; they come from the same source but have different names. The mind of the Tao is thus the ancestral source of cultivating the Tao. The mind of the Tao is the master; the human mind is the servant. When one recognizes the mind of the Tao as the ancestral source and has the master command the servant, the servant obeys the master and is subdued without being subdued. Every movement and every stillness is then the working of the mind of the Tao; even the human mind is transformed into the mind of the Tao. Within there are no deluded thoughts, without there are no deluded affairs; inside and out are at peace, intruding qi can hardly enter, and one dwells in a state of having nothing to do. Having reached the state of nothing to do, empty and open, there is only the mind of the Tao and nothing else. Beyond this, whom else would you seek?

True Constancy Must Respond to Things; in Responding to Things, Do Not Be Deluded

Having known the ancestral source and dwelling in the state of nothing to do, the true can become constant. When the true is constant, nothing false from outside can harm it. But the way of true constancy is not to shun the world or leave society, nor is it to practice seated meditation and stop thoughts. One must keep one's feet on solid ground and practice it in person, tempering oneself in the great furnace of creation; only then is it true and only then is it constant. If one knows the true but does not know how to practice the true, then even if one has nothing to do, one is like an idol of carved wood or molded clay: though outwardly there is nothing to do, inwardly one cannot avoid having things to do. As it is said, “The Chan mechanism is originally still, yet stillness breeds demons.” This is shutting the door to catch a thief: the false cannot be expelled, and the true is sure to be harmed—how could there be true constancy? Hence it says: “True constancy must respond to things; in responding to things, do not be deluded.” “True constancy responding to things” means using the true to respond to the false; “responding to things without delusion” means borrowing the false to cultivate the true. For the true is hidden within the false, and the false is not outside the true. Without the false one cannot achieve the true; without the true one cannot transform the false. It lies only in constantly responding while constantly still—stealing the life-giving impulse from within the killing impulse, holding the rudder steady amid the waves. If one can truly remain undeluded, that is true constancy; if one truly has true constancy, then even responding to things all day long, one has never responded to things; one dwells in the state of nothing to do and is not moved by the myriad things—so what harm is there in responding?

Undeluded, Nature Settles of Itself

If one responds to things without delusion, the true constancy of the mind of the Tao is preserved. When the true constancy of the mind of the Tao is preserved, the falseness of the human mind does not arise; when the falseness of the human mind does not arise, the nature of temperament does not stir; when the nature of temperament does not stir, the nature endowed by heaven is bright and clear, like a crystal pagoda, unstained and unattached, unmoving and unshaken, and settles of itself. In sum, the fruit of the settling of nature lies entirely in the work of responding to things without delusion. With delusion, the human mind takes charge, the true nature is obscured and the false nature arises; without delusion, the mind of the Tao takes charge, the false nature is transformed and the true nature appears. The way of settling nature is fully contained in non-delusion. The Patriarch's Rhapsody of the Yellow Crane says: “Relying on worldly methods, cultivate the method of transcending the world.” How profound these words are!

Nature Settled, Qi Returns of Itself

Nature is principle: in heaven it is principle, and bestowed upon a person it is nature; hence this nature is called the heavenly nature. Qi is life: in heaven it is qi, and received by a person it is life; hence this life is called the heavenly mandate. At the beginning of a person's life, principle is not separate from qi nor qi from principle, life is not separate from nature nor nature from life; principle and qi are one family, nature and life are one matter. Because one crosses into later heaven, principle and qi are no longer joined, and nature and life go separate ways. If one's nature can be settled and not moved by intruding qi, the upright qi returns of itself; one who had no life has life again, nature and life are once more one matter, and principle and qi were never at odds. This is what is called “fully realizing one's nature so as to arrive at one's destiny.” On the whole, the key to the return of qi lies entirely in the settling of nature. If nature is truly settled, qi naturally returns, with no need for forced effort.

Qi Returned, the Elixir Forms of Itself

The elixir is a round and luminous thing, formed by the union of the two qi of yin and yang. When nature is settled, all thoughts cease; this is called true stillness and true emptiness. When stillness reaches its extreme there is movement; when emptiness reaches its extreme, whiteness is born. The prior-heaven qi comes out of emptiness and nothingness and within a moment congeals into the elixir; this is what is meant by “within one double hour the elixir is completed.” On the whole, the key to returning the elixir lies in the return of qi; the key to the return of qi lies in the settling of nature; the key to the settling of nature lies in non-delusion; the key to non-delusion lies in subduing the mind; and the key to subduing the mind lies in knowing the ancestral source. Knowing the ancestral source, subduing the mind and responding to things without being deluded by things, nature settles of itself, qi returns of itself, and the elixir forms of itself. These three instances of “of itself” all come from responding to things without delusion. Responding to things without delusion is precisely the work of refining the self; as it is said, “When refining the self is thoroughly mastered, the returned elixir forms of itself.” The Song of Completing the Tao says: “Before refining the returned elixir, first refine your nature; before cultivating the great medicine, first cultivate your mind. When nature is settled, the sign of the elixir naturally arrives; when the mind is still, the sprout of the medicine is born.” This is precisely because returning the elixir is easiest and refining the self is hardest. If refining the self is not carried to the point where there is no self, then nature is not settled and the mind is not still—how could the elixir return? Yet if in refining the self one does not know the ancestral source, the work cannot be applied. Old Master Sanfeng said: “In laying the foundation one must use the bellows; in refining the self one also needs the true lead.” The true lead is the ancestral source. Unless one meets a true master who reveals the secret of the single great medicine of true lead, who would dare to begin?

Within the Vessel, Pair Kan and Li

When qi returns and the elixir forms, the true seed is in hand, but one has only recovered the original face one had at birth from one's mother. This is called the returned elixir, and also the lesser returned elixir. This elixir has not yet been tempered by true water and fire; it is still a raw elixir, not yet a mature elixir, and cannot be ingested to sustain life. One must temper this elixir into a thing of utmost yang; only then can it extend one's years and increase one's lifespan. Kan is yin outside and yang within; the yang within it is the true, the central and upright yang—not the turbid essence in the kidneys of the illusory body, but the prior-heaven true and unified divine water. Li is yang outside and yin within; the yin within it is the true, the central and upright yin—not the blood in the heart of the illusory body, but the prior-heaven empty and numinous true fire. This water and this fire are the water and fire naturally present in empty space, not any water or fire that has form or image. With this water and fire one boils and decocts the numinous medicine throughout the twelve double hours without interruption, neither forgetting nor forcing, continuous as if barely there, used without exertion. This is what the Mirror for Compounding the Medicine (Ru Yaojing) means by “Water fears drying up; fire fears growing cold.” “Pairing within the vessel” means that the natural water and fire need not be sought outside; the spirit silently operates them, adjusting at every moment for the youth or age of the ingredients and the advance or withdrawal of the fire, regulating them in hidden secrecy, allowing not the slightest leakage.

Yin and Yang Give Rise to Turning and Returning; Everywhere Transformed at a Single Clap of Thunder

The work of boiling and refining with water and fire is the work of Zhun in the morning and Meng in the evening. Zhun in the morning is advancing the yang fire; Meng in the evening is operating the yin tally. When it is the time of yang, one advances yang; when it is the time of yin, one operates yin. Yin turning to yang, yang turning to yin, yin and yang contend and gather, and of themselves give rise to turning and returning. Turning and returning means that they meet within the vague and elusive, and change takes place within the dim and dark; turning and returning, yin and yang merge and transform, and the prior-heaven numinous sprout grows from tender to firm, from raw to ripe, from gradual to sudden, until all at once a grain of utmost-yang elixir bursts forth from the furnace of creation, like a sudden clap of thunder in the empty sky that wakes the dreamer from his dream.

White Clouds Pay Court at the Summit; Sweet Dew Sprinkles Mount Sumeru

When the yang elixir emerges from the cauldron, one swallows and ingests it, and it transmutes one's own yin mercury as a cat pounces on a mouse. “White clouds pay court at the summit” means the harmonious clear qi rises, and the five qi pay court to the origin; “sweet dew sprinkles Mount Sumeru” means the divine water of the flowery pool descends, and all illnesses give way to renewed spring. Mount Sumeru stands at the exact center of heaven and earth; it is the image of the one treasure within a person. The one treasure in the center is the sacred embryo, also called the yellow sprout. The Patriarch's lyric written for Zhang Zhennu says: “The Earth-Thunder shakes and rain falls on the mountaintop; it must wash and cleanse, and the yellow sprout breaks through the soil.” This is exactly the meaning.

Drinking Alone the Wine of Long Life, Who Can Know My Free and Easy Wandering?

When the sacred embryo has congealed and the divine water flows freely, irrigating the elixir field, substance naturally arises from no substance and form arises from no form, and all forced effort is of no further use. Hence it says: “Drinking alone the wine of long life, who can know my free and easy wandering?” It says “drinking alone” and “who can know” because the matter of long life and free wandering is a matter of stealing yin and yang and seizing the workings of creation—of “going before heaven and heaven does not oppose it, following heaven and honoring heaven's seasons.” Even the spirits of heaven and earth cannot fathom it, let alone human beings.

Seated, I Listen to a Stringless Tune, and Clearly Penetrate the Workings of Creation

Zhuangzi said: “Gathering the essence and spirit, one lives long; forgetting the essence and spirit, one is without birth.” Long life is the way of action that completes life; no-birth is the way of non-action that completes nature. The way of completing nature is the work of nine years of facing the wall, and the work of facing the wall is the work of ten months of warm nurturing. The talk of nine years does not mean an actual period of nine years; nine is the number of pure yang, signifying the ninefold return of the golden liquid, when yin is exhausted and yang is pure. As the saying goes, “If a single hair's breadth of yin qi remains, one is not an immortal.” The talk of ten months refers to the time when the sacred embryo is completed and released through transformation, just as a woman is pregnant and after ten months the infant leaves the womb; this too is a symbolic image. In the work of ten months of warm nurturing, one guards against danger and anticipates peril; all existence is emptiness, and not the slightest intruding qi is allowed into the embryonic origin, as though a wall ten thousand ren high stood before one and nothing at all could be seen. Ten months of warm nurturing and nine years of facing the wall are one meaning, not two separate things; both are images the ancients took to convey the meaning. It is precisely because of warm nurturing and facing the wall that it says, “Seated, I listen to a stringless tune.” “Seated” does not mean the body sitting; it is a sitting in which the heart is clear and the intention still, unmoving and unshaken. A tune with strings has sound and tone; a stringless tune has neither sound nor tone. Without sound or tone there is only emptiness. Since it has no sound or tone, what is there to listen to? To say “listen” means it is empty and yet not empty, not empty and yet empty—not a dead emptiness, but true emptiness. “Seated, listening” means leaving behind the side of seeing, not clinging to form at all. “Listening to a stringless tune”—listening without listening—already leaves behind the side of hearing as well, and does not cling to sound. The Diamond Sutra says: “If one seeks me through form, or seeks me through sound, this person walks a deviant path and cannot see the Tathagata.” The Tathagata is “as if something comes, yet in truth nothing comes.” This is the original face of true emptiness, the great gateway to transcending and releasing the sacred embryo, the true oral secret for perfecting the Dharma body. In short, the work of non-action lies wholly in the single word “sit.” To sit is to rest where one should rest: looking inward at the mind, the mind has no mind; looking outward at the form, the form has no form; looking afar at things, things have no things. Once these three are understood, one sees only emptiness; emptiness has nothing to empty, and even the nothing of nothing is no more. When the nothing of nothing is no more, this is called complete illumination; one breaks through empty space, the whole body stands revealed, neither born nor perishing, and only then is it complete. That which has birth is the means to shed the illusory body and secure the foundation of life—the way of the returned elixir, creating being out of non-being. That which is without birth is the means to shed the Dharma body and complete the principle of nature—the way of the great elixir, transforming being back into non-being. Birth and no-birth are the workings of creation. Those who know this way begin by creating being from non-being in order to live long, and end by returning from being to non-being in order to be without birth. Neither being nor non-being is established; one practices the dual cultivation of nature and life; one clearly penetrates the workings of heaven and earth's creation and becomes one with heaven and earth.

Altogether These Twenty Lines Are Truly a Ladder to Heaven

The line “Nurture qi, forget speech and guarding” speaks in general of the whole substance and great function of cultivating the Tao. The line “Subdue the mind, acting without acting” speaks of refining the self and laying the foundation. The two lines “In movement and stillness know the ancestral source; with nothing to do, whom else would you seek?” say that in refining the self and laying the foundation one must understand the mind. The two lines “True constancy must respond to things; in responding to things, do not be deluded” speak of the practical work of refining the self. The three lines “Undeluded, nature settles of itself; nature settled, qi returns of itself; qi returned, the elixir forms of itself” say that when the work of refining the self is diligent, the returned elixir forms of itself. The line “Within the vessel, pair Kan and Li” speaks of the work of the inner furnace after the elixir has returned. The line “Yin and yang give rise to turning and returning” speaks of the transformations of yin and yang, from tender to firm. The line “Everywhere transformed at a single clap of thunder” speaks of the symbolic image of releasing the elixir. The two lines “White clouds pay court at the summit; sweet dew sprinkles Mount Sumeru” speak of the symbolic images after ingesting the elixir. The two lines “Drinking alone the wine of long life, who can know my free and easy wandering?” speak of the symbolic images of ingesting the elixir and forming the embryo. The line “Seated, I listen to a stringless tune” speaks of the work of ten months of warm nurturing. The line “And clearly penetrate the workings of creation” sums up the great meaning of completing nature and completing life. In the preceding eighteen lines, the whole sequence of the returned elixir and the great elixir from beginning to end, the fire timing and the stages of the work, are all disclosed—utterly simple and easy, concise and not cumbersome. If one practices according to the method, rising from the low to the high and reaching from the near to the far, it is truly a ladder to heaven for those who cultivate the Tao. It says “twenty lines” counting together the two concluding lines.