Showing posts with label Komjathy. Daoist Tradition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Komjathy. Daoist Tradition. Show all posts

2023/08/12

Komjathy. Daoist Tradition: 11. Scriptures and Scripture Study

   Komjathy, Daoist Tradition: 

An Introduction 2013
by Louis Komjathy

Table of Contents

Part 1: Historical Overview
1. Approaching Daoism
2. The Daoist Tradition

Part 2: The Daoist Worldview
3. Ways to Affiliation
4. Community and Social Organization
5. Informing Views and Foundational Concerns
6. Cosmogony, Cosmology, and Theology
7. Virtue, Ethics and Conduct Guidelines

Part 3: Daoist Practice
8. Dietetics
9. Health and Longevity Practice
10. Meditation
11. Scriptures and Scripture Study
12. Ritual

Part 4: Place, Sacred Space and Material Culture
13. Temples and Sacred Sites
14. Material Culture

Part 5: Daoism in the Modern World
15. Daoism in the Modern World

===

11 Scripture and scripture study
 
 
“Scripture” is a comparative category for the central and authoritative sacred texts of religious traditions (see Smith 1993). For religious adherents, scriptures are sacred, timeless, enduring, and authoritative. They are classics that help to preserve and transmit tradition, and they are usually one of the primary sources of authority among religious adherents and communities. At the same time, the preservation and dissemination of scriptures involves the participation of particular adherents and communities.
In the case of Daoism, Daoist scriptures (daojing) are usually identified as manifestations of the Dao (see Chapter 6) and as a key dimension of the Daoist tradition (see Chapters 2–4). They are one of the external Three Treasures that comprise the Daoist tradition. At the same time, there are many types of Daoist literature (see Bokenkamp 1986; Boltz 1986b, 1987a, 1987b; Kohn 2000a; Komjathy 2002, 2007a; Schipper and Verellen 2004; Pregadio 2008a). On the most basic level, “scriptures” (jing) may be distinguished from “texts” (shu) and “literature” (wen). More specifically, Daoist literature includes commentaries (zhu), hagiography (zhuan), instructions (jue), poetry (shi ), precepts (jie), records (ji or lu), and so forth. In the case of scriptures, commentaries are especially important as they help one understand the ways in which Daoists have read and interpreted Daoist texts.
Every major Daoist scripture is written in classical Chinese and, unfortunately, very little Daoist literature has been reliably translated to date (see Komjathy 2003a). The exception to this fact is the perpetual and unnecessary appearance of “new” translations of the Daode jing (see Hardy 1998; LaFargue and Pas 1998; Dippmann 2001). Even more problematic are the various appropriations and so-called “versions” or “adaptations” of the text for popular consumption (see Chapter 16; also Komjathy 2011b). We still await reliable translations of most of the other major Daoist scriptures, and so the situation of Daoism stands in contrast to the sacred literature of other religious traditions where much has already been translated into English. 
1] Daoist views concerning scripture
Daoist scriptures are sacred texts written in classical Chinese using calligraphy, and most often transmitted in manuscripts (see Chapter 15). This statement brings our attention to the importance of actual writing and manuscripts (see below). The Chinese character and Daoist religious category here translated as “scripture” is jing (ching) 經 , which has also been rendered as “classic” or “canon.” As jing may refer to the “classics” of Confucianism and later to the “sutras” of Buddhism, Daoists often refer to their scriptures as daojing (“scriptures of the Dao”), also translatable as “Daoist classics.” The character jing consists of the mi 糸 (“silk”) radical and jing 巠 (“underground stream”). The latter is generally taken to be a phonetic, meaning that it indicates pronunciation. However, a further etymological reading might suggest that the jing phonetic is also a meaningcarrier. Under this reading, “scriptures” are threads and watercourses that form and re-form networks of connection. They connect Daoists to the unnamable mystery and sacred presence which is the Dao and to the Daoist tradition, the community of adepts, as a historical and energetic continuum.
For this reason Daoist jing are religious texts; they are not simply “classics” or “wisdom literature.” They were composed, preserved, and transmitted within Daoist communities, although their origins are usually anonymous and/or attributed to divine beings such as Laojun (Lord Lao) or Yuanshi tianzun (Celestial Worthy of Original Beginning) (see Chapter 6). Thus, for many Daoists, Daoist scriptures are not simply human compositions or material texts. As inspired or revealed, they are manifestations of the Dao in the world, and they contain and express the numinous presence of the Dao. Some Daoists view the texts as sacred in and of themselves; the mere encounter with and custody of Daoist scriptures may thus be a blessing, a blessing which involves religious orientations and responsibilities. Zhu Ziyang (Guanmiao [Observing-the-Wondrous]; 976– 1029), the 23rd Shangqing Patriarch, expresses such a Daoist view in his preface to the Dadong zhenjing (Perfect Scripture of the Great Cavern; DZ 6).
THE SOTERIOLOGICAL POWER OF DAOIST SCRIPTURES
If you possess this scripture but do not get to study it, the Celestial Imperial Lord of Supreme Subtlety will still expunge your death certificate and, beginning from when you received the scripture, will establish [your] register of perfection. When you first begin a purification retreat, he will transfer your records to the Supreme Ultimate, inscribe your name in Eastern Blossom, and send a report about you to the Supreme [Imperial Lord]. You will be registered and enfeoffed in Turtle Terrace, and ten thousand spirits and a thousand numinous powers will call you the Great Being of Nine Mysteries. Your position will be that of Immortal Duke of Great Clarity. (Dadong zhenjing, DZ 6, preface; adapted from Miller 2008: 223)
Thus actual reading and study of texts may thus be less important than gaining transmission and living in their proximity.
Here a note is in order concerning the Daode jing (a.k.a. Laozi ) and Nanhua zhenjing (a.k.a. Zhuangzi ) as Daoist scriptures. These two texts are among the most widely “translated” and popularized Daoist scriptures (“wisdom literature”), especially in popular and general-audience “translations.” Such translations almost universally fail to acknowledge the Daoist tradition as source, to translate the texts in historically and contextually accurate ways, or to consider the ethical and political dimensions of popular appropriation and commodification. Although some might point out that the texts were originally titled the Laozi (Book of Venerable Masters), more conventionally translated as Book of Master Lao, and the Zhuangzi (Book of Master Zhuang), even those titles invoke the inner cultivation lineages of classical Daoism (see Chapters 1–3, passim).
However, from a Daoist perspective, these texts are jing. They are sacred texts written in classical Chinese and have an inspired or divine element.
Daoist scriptures are thus expressions of the Dao, both materially and spiritually. We may think of this in multiple ways. First, in a pre-modern context, possession of Daoist scriptures often indicated formal affiliation with the Daoist tradition. Through ordination ceremonies and masterdisciple transmissions (see Chapter 13), they were bestowed to Daoists both as a sign of their religious affiliation and as a form of empowerment and authority. Second, Daoist scriptures may assist adherents in aligning themselves with the Dao. They contain Daoist principles, views, practices, and models. Third, Daoist scriptures are inspired or revealed. For Daoists, they originate from a divine source, a source beyond the merely human. In the case of theistic revelation, Daoist scriptures provide access to specific Daoist sacred realms and deities. This is especially true in the case of petitions, invocations, and registers used in Daoist ritual (see Chapter 13). Finally, Daoist scriptures are infused with the sacred presence of the Dao. On some level, they are regarded as actual manifestations of the Dao in the world.
 
FIGURE 18 Transmission of Scriptures
Source: Wudou sanyi tujue, DZ 765
Like most foundational classics of traditional Chinese culture, the earliest Daoist texts that became recognized as scriptures were named after their associated authors, namely, Laozi (Master Lao) and Zhuangzi (Master Zhuang). Terminologically speaking, there were no Daoist jing per se before the emergence of organized Daoism (see Chapter 2). It was at this time that the Laozi received the imperial designation of the Daode jing (Scripture on the Dao and Inner Power) (see Chan 2000). The Zhuangzi became officially canonized under the Tang dynasty as the Nanhua zhenjing (Perfect Scripture of Perfected Nanhua; DZ 670) (see Mair 2000), with Nanhua (Southern Florescence) being an honorific name for Zhuangzi. Some of the earliest Daoist scriptures identified as “revealed” are the second-century CE Taiping jing (Scripture on Great Peace; DZ 1100), third-century CE Huangting jing (Scripture on the Yellow Court; DZ 331; DZ 332), and fourth-century CE Duren jing (Scripture on Universal Salvation; DZ 1) (see also below). Such statements of course inspire one to consider when, by whom, and in what contexts Daoist conceptions of “scripture” developed, but there can be no doubt that from at least the Later Han dynasty onward Daoists had their own conceptions of and views concerning scripture.
Daoist scriptures have often been viewed as actual emanations of the Dao, storehouses that contain the sacred presence of the Dao (see also Bokenkamp 1997: 20–1). For example, the Lingbao community suggested that the original ethereal “editions” of Daoist scriptures were housed in their corresponding heavens and that the universe was, on some level, maintained by divine talismans and scriptures. We find this Daoist view expressed in the Duren jing (Scripture on Universal Salvation).
ETHEREAL EDITIONS OF DAOIST SCRIPTURES
Above are the Illimitable Tones of the Hidden Language of the
Great Brahma of All the Heavens. The ancient graphs were all
one zhang square. Of old, the Celestial Perfected Sovereign wrote out this script in terrestrial graphs in order to reveal the correct pronunciations. The various heavens will send down spirit kings who fly through the heavens to keep watch over the bodies and record the meritorious strivings of all those who know these pronunciations and are able to change them during retreats. These things will be reported back to the heavens.
(Duren jing, DZ 1, 4.25b; adapted from Bokenkamp 1997: 430)
In addition to being revelations, here we see an esoteric dimension of Daoist scriptures: they are approximations of a secret, hidden celestial language, and they are storehouses of subtle energies and primordial ethers. They are sacred emanations from divine sources. 
2] The importance of scripture study
Throughout Chinese history, scripture study (jingxue) has occupied a central place in the Daoist tradition, especially for the Daoist cultural elite. Here scripture study refers to the careful reading of, reflection on, and application of Daoist texts, and involves attentiveness to their language, meaning, and relevance. In addition, scripture study locates Daoists in the Daoist religious community. Such statements may inspire one to consider the ways in which specific texts are read and understood within the Daoist tradition. For example, although the Daode jing is a Daoist scripture, it may be interpreted in “non-Daoist” ways, and there can be no doubt that it was part of the larger Chinese society and culture. However, there are various Daoist ways of reading and applying the text. In this context, I would emphasize ways of reading. Although there is a tendency in the modern world to emphasize “consumptive reading” (e.g. “bestsellers” and “voracious readers”), other approaches are possible. In particular, inspired by Daoist religious practice, one might adopt “contemplative reading,” especially with respect to scripture study. Contemplative reading suggests that reading may be informed by contemplative practice or might be contemplative practice itself. This is a practice-based perspective emphasizing attentiveness. It emphasizes careful reading, close textual analysis, philosophical reflection, practice-based application, and the emergence of spiritual insight. It reveals the close connection among study, practice, understanding, and experience. Each informs the other.
Here we must also acknowledge that, in pre-modern China, literacy levels would have been relatively low, and one wonders about the percentage of literate Daoists. Given the fact that a great deal of Daoist religious practice involves reading and writing, one would assume that there was a relatively high literacy rate among Daoists, but at present this is mere conjecture. Nonetheless, it draws our attention to two additional points. First, in pre-modern China, Daoism frequently occupied a central place in the larger Chinese society and culture. Many Chinese intellectuals and cultural elite entered the Daoist ranks, and many Daoists made major contributions to Chinese culture. In imperial China, Daoism often had a privileged position, and wielded immense cultural and political power. On the other hand, the vast majority of Daoists were ordinary people who would have been illiterate. We must thus acknowledge the importance of oral tradition, including storytelling. For example, much of the language and many stories of the Zhuangzi were circulated orally and became part of Daoist folklore.
Although scriptures occupy a central place in the Daoist tradition, there are diverse Daoist views concerning the importance of scripture study, ranging from strong emphasis to almost complete indifference. Some Daoists have made scripture study an essential part of their religious practice. Other Daoists have included scripture study in their practice, while also offering cautions concerning its relative importance. For example, Chapter 13 of the Zhuangzi, titled “The Way of Heaven,” records an exchange between Duke Huan and a certain Wheelwright Pian concerning reading books.
BOOKS AS CHAFF AND DREGS
Duke Huan was in his hall reading a book. Wheelwright Pian, who was in the yard below chiseling a wheel, laid down his mallet and chisel, stepped up into the hall, and said to Duke Huan, “This book Your Grace is reading—may I venture to ask whose words are in it?”
“The words of the sages,” said the duke. “Are the sages still alive?”
“Dead long ago,” said the duke.
“In that case, what you are reading there is nothing but the chaff and dregs of people of antiquity!”
“Since when does a wheelwright have permission to comment on the books I read?” said Duke Huan. “If you have some explanation, well and good. If not, it’s your life!”
Wheelwright Pian said, “I look at it from the point of view of my own work. When I chisel a wheel, if the blows of the mallet are too gentle, the chisel slides and won’t take hold. But if they’re too hard, it bites in and won’t budge. Not too gentle, not too hard—you can get it in your hand and feel it in your mind. You can’t put it into words, and yet there’s a knack to it somehow. I can’t teach it to my son, and he can’t learn it from me. So I’ve gone along for seventy years and at my age I’m still chiseling wheels. When people of antiquity died, they took with them the things that couldn’t be handed down. So what you are reading there must be nothing but the chaff and dregs of the people of antiquity.” (Zhuangzi, Chapter 13; adapted from Watson 1968: 152–3)
For Wheelwright Pian, and therefore for Daoists with similar intuitions, texts are not documentations of attainment, but rather reminders of loss and potential communal diminishment. Reading may become mere distraction, especially if it fails to be a source of inspiration or guidance. Like other passages in classical Daoist texts, the passage seems to emphasize the limitations of language, conception, and knowing. However, in typical Daoist fashion, one comes to the insight that books written by deceased teachers and masters are “the chaff and dregs of people of antiquity” by reading the Zhuangzi. Scripture study itself revealed the limitations of scripture study! At the same time, the above passage is about books and received cultural influences. Daoist scriptures had not yet appeared.
Daoists have also emphasized the importance of scripture recitation and chanting. One interesting expression appears in the fifth-century Xisheng jing (Scripture on the Western Ascension). This is a text of Louguan (Lookout Tower Monastery) provenance that purports to be a secret transmission from Laozi to Yin Xi, the Guardian of the Pass. It thus presents itself as a supplement to the Daode jing. In the fourth section of the text, Laozi admonishes Yin Xi to cherish the teachings and to practice carefully.
SCRIPTURE RECITATION AS DAOIST PRACTICE
Yin Xi was deeply moved by these words. Thus he excused himself from his duty on the pass, pleading illness, gave up his official position, and withdrew in solitariness to a chamber of emptiness and leisure. In deep serenity, he meditated on the Dao, focused his aspirations, and guarded the One (shouyi ). In ultimate emptiness and original Nonbeing, he penetrated the secrets of the One. He realized that the inner meaning is not revealed through complicated phrases and marvelous words. He recited the composition [Daode jing] ten thousand times. His vital essence became stable and his meditation became pervasive. By practicing perfection and returning to personhood, he was able to pervade the Mystery. By discussing the undifferentiated Source, he was able to attain spirit immortality.
(Xisheng jing, DZ 666, 1.7a–8a)
Yin Xi’s response to Laozi’s instructions provides a variety of insights into the place of texts and textual transmission in Daoism. Aspiring adepts, represented by Yin Xi, must study and apply any teachings, whether oral or written, received from their teachers. This recalls Chapter 70 of the Daode jing: “My words are very easy to understand and very easy to practice, but no one understands or practices them.” For Daoists reading the Daode jing, this line directs them to deepen their own practice, to become embodiments of the teachings. In the case of Yin Xi, he takes Laozi’s teachings so seriously that he goes into meditative seclusion (see also Zhuangzi, Chapters 7, 23, and 28). This includes repeatedly reciting the Daode jing. According to the Xisheng jing, scripture recitation results in specific physiological changes and in mystical realization.
While Yin Xi’s (sixth-century) recitation practice appears to be selfinitiated and self-directed, chanting became a major dimension of Daoist ritual from at least the Tang dynasty forward (see Kohn 1998b). Interestingly, in Tang-dynasty ritual performance, the Daode jing occupied a central position. It appears that ritual chanting developed in Daoism through the influence of Chinese Buddhist recitation methods centering on Chinese Buddhist sutras or at least Chinese versions of early Buddhist sutras. However, texts such as the Daode jing appear to collect earlier mnemonic aphorisms (see Chapters 2 and 3), and they have rhythmic patterns that lend themselves to easy memorization, recollection, and oral citation. Certain Daoist scriptures seem to have been intentionally composed for use in Daoist ritual chanting. The relevant format usually consists of four or five character combinations, often with specific rhythm and rhyme patterns. For more stylized Daoist chanting types, such formats lend themselves to a higher degree of melody and musicality.
There is also a middle way between the dismissal of texts as “chaff and dregs” and the complete elevation and veneration of texts as evidenced in scripture recitation. This middle way involves a qualified advocacy and practice of scripture study. This is probably the dominant Daoist view, a view that accepts the authority of texts, but that seeks to define beneficial ways of interacting with texts. One finds this perspective among members of early Quanzhen Daoism (see Komjathy 2007a, forthcoming). As documented in the Lijiao shiwu lun (Fifteen Discourses to Establish the Teachings), Wang Zhe (1113–70), the founder of Quanzhen, gives advice on reading, understanding and applying Daoist texts.
THE WAY TO STUDY TEXTS
The way to study texts is not to strive after literary merit, and thereby confuse your eyes. Instead, you must extract the meaning as it harmonizes with the heart-mind. Abandon texts after you have extracted their meaning and grasped their principle. Abandon principle after you have realized the fundamental ground. After you realize the fundamental ground, then attend to it until it completely enters the heart-mind. (Lijiao shiwu lun, DZ 1233, 1b–2a)
For Wang, the aspiring adept must reflect on the place of scripture study in his or her own life and practice. The relevance of scripture study is relative to the individual practitioner, and such relevance is based on his or her affinities and commitments. Reading and study (and translation) may support Daoist practice, or they may become a distraction. In a Quanzhen context, the point of reading and study is to deepen practice. One endeavors to apply a given text’s insights to one’s daily life. Scripture study thus is not only an intellectual exercise; it is also a spiritual one. According to Wang, one must focus on the transformational experience and influence of reading Daoist scriptures. Here there is a complex interplay among study, practice, and experience. Study without practice and experience may lead to a lack of discernment concerning relevance; practice and experience without study may lead to various forms of self-delusion.
3] Key Daoist scriptures
Just as there is no single founder or primary community in the Daoist tradition, so too there no single central scripture. Different Daoist adherents and communities privilege different scriptures. While the Daode jing is probably the most influential and consistently privileged text in Daoist history, it is an oversimplification to think of that text as the central scripture of Daoism. In fact, when speaking about texts in the Daoist tradition, we should first discuss either the movement-specific textual corpuses or the Daozang (Daoist Canon), the primary collection of Daoist texts from the late medieval period forward (see below). Moreover, as I will document in the present section, different scriptures occupy a central position in different Daoist movements and lineages. While some Daoist texts have received almost universal recognition and circulation throughout the Daoist tradition, others were lineage-specific. We might, in turn, profitably adopt the categories of “texts in general circulation” and “texts in internal circulation” (Schipper and Verellen 2004), that is, texts that were circulated throughout the tradition and often in the larger Chinese population, and texts that were circulated within specific communities and lineages.
In terms of early Daoism, the Daode jing occupied a central place in the Tianshi movement. This was so much the case that Zhang Lu (d. 215), the third Celestial Master, appears to have written one of the earliest Daoist commentaries, which is titled the Laozi xiang’er zhu (Commentary Thinking Through the Laozi; DH 56; S. 6825; Bokenkamp 1997). As we saw in Chapter 8, the early Tianshi community also developed an ethical system based on precepts derived from the Daode jing and the Xiang’er commentary. The former include the so-called Nine Practices, while the latter include the so-called Twenty-seven Xiang’er Precepts. For members of the early Tianshi movement, the Daode jing thus provided principles and inspiration for living a Daoist religious life. In the early medieval Tianshi community, the Xiang’er commentary and the Santian neijie jing (Scripture on the Inner Explanations of the Three Heavens; DZ 1205) were especially important (see Bokenkamp 1997). Apparently in contrast, the Taiping movement emphasized the importance of the Taiping jing (Scripture on Great Peace; DZ 1101; Hendrischke 2007), a text that expresses a utopian vision of a world characterized by an era of Great Peace. Interestingly, both the Tianshi and Taiping movements endeavored to establish a society that might be characterized as a Daoist theocracy, and they implemented programs, such as grain distribution, that were religious and communal in nature.
Moving into early medieval Daoism, in Chapter 4 of the Baopuzi neipian
(Inner Chapters of Master Embracing Simplicity; DZ 1185), Ge Hong (287– 347) identifies three scriptures that formed the core of the Taiqing textual tradition: the Taiqing jing (Scripture on Great Clarity), Jiudan jing (Scripture on the Nine Elixirs), and Jinye jing (Scripture on the Gold Liquid) (see Pregadio 2006a; also Campany 2002). Ge Hong also had a large library (see Ware 1966, 379–83), part of which was inherited from his grand-uncle Ge Xuan (164–244), and which was eventually transmitted to Ge Hong’s grandnephew Ge Chaofu (fl. 390s), who is in turn associated with the Lingbao movement. Interestingly, in his Baopuzi neipian, Ge Hong criticizes an overemphasis on the importance of the Daode jing and Zhuangzi, so evident in contemporaneous aristocratic and intellectual movements such as Qingtan (Pure Conversation) and Xuanxue (Profound Learning) (Campany 2002: 84–5).
A DAOIST CRITIQUE OF “LAO-ZHUANG” DAOISM
Even if the five thousand characters [Daode jing] come from Laozi, they are only a general discussion and a rough outline of our topic [alchemy and immortality]. The contents in no way allow a complete exposition of the matter from beginning to end that could be employed as support for our pursuit. Merely to recite this classic blindly without securing the essential process would be to undergo useless toil. How much worse in the case of texts inferior to the Daode jing . . . Is it not a pity that the eloquent rogues and base scoundrels of these later days should be allowed refuge in Laozi and Zhuang Zhou? (Baopuzi neipian, DZ 1185, 8.5b–6a; adapted from Ware 1966: 142; also 14.2b– 3a; 16.4b)
The Shangqing movement venerated the manuscripts that recorded the Shangqing revelations and the Huangting jing (Scripture on the Yellow Court; DZ 331; DZ 332), a text that apparently predates Shangqing and was originally composed in a “non-Shangqing” context. Important original Shangqing texts include the Dadong zhenjing (Perfect Scripture of the Great Cavern; DZ 5–7; DZ 103) and Lingshu ziwen (Purple Texts Inscribed by the Spirits; DZ 179; DZ 255; DZ 442; DZ 639) (see Robinet 1993, 2000, 2008). The early Shangqing texts describe the hidden structure of the cosmos, consisting of Daoist sacred realms as well as deities and Perfected (see Chapter 6), and provide technical instructions on Shangqing religious practice, including qi ingestion, visualization, and proto-neidan. After being disseminated to various members and families associated with Shangqing, the original manuscripts were later re-collected and compiled by Tao Hongjing (456–536) in his Zhen’gao (Declarations of the Perfected; DZ 1016).
Developing in competition with Shangqing, the early Lingbao movement emphasized its own revelations and scriptural corpus. Although most often associated with Ge Chaofu (fl. 390s), the grandnephew of Ge Hong whose library and religious methods he inherited, the Lingbao corpus was systematized by Lu Xiujing (406–77). Lingbao centers on a group of forty texts known as the “ancient Lingbao corpus,” which were defined as such in the so-called “Lingbao Catalogue” by Lu (see Bokenkamp 1983; Yamada 2000). The texts in the corpus can be divided into three kinds: two ancient Lingbao texts that contain the five talismans and the belief in the Five Thearchs (wudi ) of the five directions (see Chapter 14); scriptures revealed by the Buddhist-inspired deity Yuanshi tianzun (Celestial Worthy of Original Beginning); and texts associated with Taiqing and the immortal Ge Xuan, originally a Fangshi practitioner of the Later Han and grand-uncle of Ge Hong (Yamada 2000, 225, 233–5). Important early Lingbao texts include the Lingbao wufu xu (Explanations of the Five Lingbao Talismans; DZ 388) and Duren jing (Scripture on Salvation; DZ 1; DZ 87–93).
In late medieval Daoism, especially in the context of the Tang-dynasty monastic system, the various earlier Daoist textual traditions and their associated movements were hierarchically categorized and organized into corresponding ordination levels (see Chapters 3 and 4). For the subsequent Song-Jin period, the Quanzhen movement is centrally important. However, although little research has been done, there were also a variety of deity cults and ritual movements with their own textual corpuses (see Chapter 2). These movements contributed many additional dimensions to Daoist ritual (see Chapter 13). In this case, it is important to recognize that such texts were not the focus of “scripture study”—rather, they were ritual manuals, with corresponding oral instructions and formal training.
The Quanzhen movement is especially noteworthy with respect to the central importance of scripture. Given its enduring influence within the Daoist tradition and into the modern world, Quanzhen is all the more significant. While Shangqing and Lingbao composed their own scriptures, with the accompanying claim of new revelations (see Chapter 3), it appears that Quanzhen did not exhibit a similar pattern. The tradition does indeed claim secret transmissions from immortals, but these did not become the basis of new scriptures. Instead, they were expressed in Quanzhen oral transmissions, informed Quanzhen religious practice, and were incorporated into Quanzhen hagiographies. Thus there are no originary texts that can be labeled “Quanzhen scriptures.” Rather than compiling new scriptures, members of early Quanzhen adopted the Daode jing, the sixth-century Yinfu jing (Scripture on the Hidden Talisman; DZ 31), and the eighth-century Qingjing jing (Scripture on Clarity and Stillness; DZ 620) as their central texts (see Komjathy 2007a, 2008a, forthcoming). As Wang Zhe, the founder, comments: “[To practice spiritual refinement] you must fully understand the three hundred characters of the Yinfu jing and read up on the five thousand words of the Daode jing” (Quanzhen ji, DZ 1153, 13.7b–8a). The importance of these texts, as well as of the Zhuangzi, in early Quanzhen is evidenced by their frequent citation and by the existence of commentaries by Liu Tongwei (Moran [Silent Suchness]; d. 1196) (DZ 974) and by Liu Chuxuan (Changsheng [Perpetual Life]; 1147–1203) (DZ 122; DZ 401). Liu Chuxuan also composed a lost commentary on the Daode jing. However, the preferred form of textual expression among the early Quanzhen adepts was poetry and discourse records (yulu), with most of the latter compiled by their disciples. These texts, in turn, became read, disseminated, and transmitted among members of the later tradition. In addition, they eventually became associated with seven lineages related to the Seven Perfected, most likely during the late imperial period. For example, the Huashan (Mount Hua) lineage, associated with Chen Tuan (Xiyi [Infinitesimal Subtlety]; d. 989) and Hao Datong (Guangning [Expansive Serenity]; 1140–1213), follows the early Quanzhen emphasis on the Daode jing, Yinfu jing, and Qingjing jing. At the same time, it focuses on texts associated with Chen and Hao. In contrast, the Longmen (Dragon Gate) lineage focuses on texts associated with Qiu Chuji (Changchun [Perpetual Spring]; 1148–1227). More than these, it emphasizes study and application of the three precept texts associated with Wang Changyue (Kunyang [Paradisiacal Yang]; 1622?–80). These include the Chuzhen jie (Precepts of Initial Perfection; JY 292; ZW 404), Zhongji jie (Precepts of Medium Ultimate; JY 293; ZW 405), and Tianxian jie (Precepts of Celestial Immortality; JY 291; ZW 403) (see Chapters 3, 8, and 13 herein).
While none of the early texts appear to have exerted significant influence outside of Quanzhen communities, some roughly contemporaneous texts from the late medieval period did attain such status. These include texts associated with the so-called Zhong-Lü and Nanzong lineages of internal alchemy. With respect to the former, the tenth-century Chuandao ji (Anthology on the Transmission of the Dao; DZ 263, j. 14–16; DZ 1017, j.
39–41) has been especially influential. In terms of the Southern School, a “movement” consisting of loosely associated teachers and lineages, the Wuzhen pian (Treatise on Awakening to Perfection; DZ 263, j. 26–30; DZ 1017, j. 18) and the Jindan sibaizi (Four Hundred Characters on the Golden Elixir; DZ 263, j. 4; DZ 1081), both by Zhang Boduan (Ziyang [Purple Yang]; d. 1082), are nearly canonical. Later influential and centrally important internal alchemy texts include the Zhonghe ji (Anthology of Central Harmony; DZ 249) by Li Daochun (fl. 1290) and various works by
Liu Yiming (Wuyuan [Awakening-to-the-Source]; 1734–1821), an eleventhgeneration Longmen Patriarch. This is especially the case with his Daoshu shier zhong (Twelve Daoist Books), which includes Liu’s commentaries on the Huangting jing, Yinfu jing, Wuzhen pian, and Jindan sibaizi. Among Liu’s original works, the Wudao lu (Record of Awakening to the Dao; ZW 268) has been especially influential. Liu generally clarifies the technical meaning of esoteric internal alchemy terminology and provides more psychological interpretations of internal alchemy practice. These works have also become circulated in the Western world through the various popular translations of Thomas Cleary published by Shambhala. Like Eva Wong’s general-audience translations and most popular publications on “Daoism,” especially popular “translations” of the Daode jing (e.g. Dyer, Le Guin, Mitchell), these works must be read with caution, however, as the translations are frequently problematic (see, e.g. Kohn and LaFargue 1998; Komjathy 2003a, 2008a, 2011b).
These examples are sufficient to get a sense of the diversity of Daoist scriptures, the relative importance of various Daoist texts in different Daoist movements, and the importance of scripture study as a major Daoist religious practice. They also draw our attention to the Daoist commitment to the preservation, careful dissemination, and transmission of Daoist scriptures. While I have indicated the ways in which different Daoist scriptures were emphasized in different Daoist movements, no discussion of Daoist texts would be complete without the Daozang (Tao-tsang; Daoist Canon), the primary textual collection of the Daoist tradition from the late medieval period forward.
At various periods in Chinese history, prominent Daoist leaders, usually with imperial patronage and/or aristocratic support, compiled collections of Daoist texts. Such collections received the designation of Daozang, which literally means “storehouse of the Dao” (see Komjathy 2002; Schipper and Verellen 2004). The compilation of such Daoist collections is indebted to Lu Xiujing, who also compiled the abovementioned Lingbao Catalogue. Lu created the earliest known catalogue of Daoist texts, which was titled the Sandong jingshu mulu (Catalogue of the Scriptures and Writings of the Three Caverns). It was presented to Emperor Ming (r. 465–72) of the LiuSong dynasty (420–79) in 471. Lu Xiujing maintained that “there had been 1,228 scrolls (juan) of Taoist scriptures and works including prescriptions of drugs, talismans, and pictures.” In addition, “of these scriptures, 1,090 scrolls had been known to the world, while the remaining 138 scrolls were still preserved in the heavens” (adapted from Liu 1973: 111; also Boltz 1987a: 4). From these statements, one may estimate that during the Liu-Song dynasty texts categorized as “Daoist” amounted to approximately 1,100 juan.
Various earlier editions preceded the compilation of the “received Daozang” (see Kohn 2000a; Komjathy 2002; Schipper and Verellen 2004; Pregadio 2008a), a term that refers to the edition compiled during the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). This edition survives into the modern world and remains the primary textual source for the academic study of Daoism. The received Daozang technically consists of two collections: the Zhengtong daozang (Daoist Canon of the Zhengtong Reign) and Xu daozang (Supplement to the Daoist Canon). Dated to 1445 and consisting of 5,318 juan, the former was compiled under the direction of Zhang Yuchu (1361– 1410) and Zhang Yuqing (d. 1426), the 43rd and 44th Celestial Master, respectively, and Ren Ziyuan (fl. 1400–22), the general intendant of Mount Wudang (Hubei), with the imperial patronage of the Yongle Emperor (Chengzu; r. 1403–1424). Dating to 1607 and consisting of 240 juan, the Xu daozang was compiled under the direction of Zhang Guoxiang (d. 1611), the 50th Celestial Master, with the imperial patronage of Ming Emperor Shenzong (r. 1572–1619). The received, Ming-dynasty Daozang in total consists of 1,487 texts (see Schipper and Verellen 2004; also Komjathy 2002).
The central organizing principle for Daoist textual collections is a tripartite classification system known as the Three Caverns (sandong). Dating from at least as early as the fifth century, the designation imitates the Three Vehicles (sansheng) of Buddhism and originally referred to three distinct scriptural or revelatory traditions: (1) Cavern Perfection (dongzhen), corresponding to the Shangqing (Highest Clarity) tradition; (2) Cavern Mystery (dongxuan), corresponding to the Lingbao (Numinous Treasure) tradition; and (3) Cavern Spirit (dongshen), corresponding to the Sanhuang (Three Sovereigns) tradition. Each “cavern” is further divided into Twelve Sections (shier bu). After the first half of the sixth century, when there was an increase in the number and diversity of Daoist texts, four supplementary divisions were developed. These are the so-called Four Supplements (sifu) (see Komjathy 2002; Schipper and Verellen 2004; Pregadio 2008a). Given the continuous addition of new Daoist texts, these divisions prove relatively unhelpful with respect to the received Daozang, although they do provide some insight into an earlier structure and underlying substrate.
Although the received Daozang now exists in mechanically reproduced editions and digital formats, it was originally printed using wood-block plates. Wood-block printing involves carving characters into wooden blocks. These blocks are then dipped in ink and imprinted on paper. This results in stitch-bound “fascicles” (literary serial) (ce), which may also be translated as “folio.” These fascicles are hand-stitched using “stab-binding” with covers and labels with the corresponding title. This technological advance draws our attention to a number of dimensions of Daoist material culture (see Chapter 15). First, wood-block printing created standardized and easily reproduced editions of Daoist texts. On the one hand, there could be relatively large “press runs” resulting in wide distribution. This development led to a decrease in hand-written, calligraphic renderings of Daoist texts and fewer personal collections of such manuscripts. At the same time, more individual Daoists owned personal copies of Daoist texts in the form of wood-block printed manuscripts. In contrast, modern editions of the Mingdynasty Daozang are printed like Western books in large, hard-bound volumes based on a Ming-dynasty wood-block edition. It appears that the Ming-dynasty Daozang only survived in one copy, which was preserved by the Daoists of Baiyun guan (see Schipper and Verellen 2004: 1–51). The actual printing blocks were destroyed during the Boxer Rebellion of 1900, but the canon was reprinted in 1926 in reduced format facsimile. If the Baiyun guan copy had been lost, it is likely that most of the history of the Daoist tradition, a history that led to the present book, would also have been lost.
Chinese characters in Daoist texts appear from top-to-bottom and rightto-left. The unpunctuated texts are printed in “fascicles” (ce). These are small, hand-stitched booklets. In the printed Daozang, such fascicles often consist of multiple texts, but individual texts may be printed and disseminated separately. In traditionally printed editions of the Daozang, often referred to as the “concertina edition,” individual fascicles are sequentially numbered and stacked in folding cases. The received collectanea consists of 1,120 fascicles. Individual juan may, in turn, consist of multiple shorter texts, while longer texts require multiple juan. In modern editions, each wood-block page consists of two pages of the corresponding fascicle. Thus, one modern page actually consists of four or sometimes six traditional Chinese pages. There are, in turn, various numbering systems for the Ming-dynasty Daozang. These include by fascicle (abbr. TT), by text number according to a Harvard-Yenching index (abbr. HY), and by text number according to an index compiled under the direction of Kristofer Schipper (abbr. CT/ DZ). The latter has become the standard system with the publication of the Historical Companion to the Daozang (Schipper and Verellen 2004; also Komjathy 2002).
 
FIGURE 19 Traditional Wood-block Page of a Daoist Text
Source: Received Daozang
Before moving on to discuss Daoist commentaries, two additional points need to be made. First, as the history of Daoist textual collection indicates, the final layer of the received Daozang dates from 1607. More than four hundred years of Daoist textual production are not included. This helps to explain the difficulty and relative scarcity of research on late imperial Daoism, that is, Daoism during the Ming and Qing dynasties. There are a variety of “extra-canonical collections.” Most importantly, these include the Daozang jiyao (Collected Essentials of the Daoist Canon; abbr. JY; dat. 1700/1906; 315 titles in 10 vols.), Daozang xubian (Supplementary Collection of the Daoist Canon; abbr. XB; dat. 1834/1952/1989; 23 texts), Daozang jinghua lu (Record of Essential Blossoms of the Daoist Canon; abbr. JHL; dat. 1922; 100 titles in 2 vols.), Daozang jinghua (Essential Blossoms of the Daoist Canon; abbr. JH; dat. 1956; 108 titles in 115 vols.), and Zangwai daoshu (Daoist Texts Outside the Canon; abbr. ZW; dat. 1992/1994; 991 titles in 36 vols.) (see Komjathy 2002; Pregadio 2008a). In terms of recent publications, the Zhonghua daozang (Chinese Daoist Canon; abbr. ZH; dat. 2004; 1,524 titles in 49 vols.) is especially noteworthy. Published under the direction of Zhang Jiyu (b. 1962), Wang Ka (Chinese Academy of Social Sciences; Beijing) and the Chinese Daoist Association, and published by Huaxia chubanshe, this is the first punctuated edition and consists of the entire Ming-dynasty Daoist Canon as well as texts from archaeological finds such as Dunhuang, Guodian, and Mawangdui. 
4] Commentary as Daoist practice
Commentary composition is another important Daoist practice. We may understand commentary as close reading and textual analysis, as a deeper and more committed form of scripture study. While scripture study may be individual or communal, commentary composition is usually a solitary undertaking. In this way, it may be seen as contemplative practice. While scripture study may be preserved through oral teachings, commentary involves actual textual production. It is an intentional and sustained inquiry that results in an additional text, a text that may be disseminated. In this way, commentary composition is intended to clarify the meaning of a text, to transmit a particular interpretation of that text, and to provide guidance for other adherents. Daoist commentary composition thus relates to exegesis (critical explanation), hermeneutics (art and theory of interpretation), and scholasticism (intellectual method of learning).
Daoist commentaries (zhu) most often focus on jing. Less frequently, they aim to elucidate other types of texts, such as esoteric internal alchemy works that have attained a certain canonical status. With respect to the received Daozang, there are major commentaries on such influential scriptures as the Huangting jing (Scripture on the Yellow Court; DZ 331; DZ 332), Qingjing jing (Scripture on Clarity and Stillness; DZ 620), Yinfu jing (Scripture on the Hidden Talisman; DZ 31), and so forth (see Schipper and Verellen 2004). However, by far the largest number of Daoist commentaries focus on the Daode jing (see Robinet 1977, 1998, 1999; Komjathy 2008a), with the commentaries of Heshang gong (2nd c. CE?) and Wang Bi (226–49), a member of the Xuanxue (Profound Learning) movement, having been most influential (see Chan 1991a, 2000). Some prominent Daoists who have engaged in exegesis and composed influential commentaries include the following: Du Guangting (850–933) on the Daode jing (DZ 725); Tang Chun (Jinling daoren [Daoist of Nanjing]; 11th c. CE?) on the Huangting jing (DZ 121); Liu Chuxuan (1147–1203) on the Daode jing (lost), Huangting jing (DZ 401), and Yinfu jing (DZ 122); and Liu Yiming (1734–1821) on the Yijing and Yinfu jing, as contained in his Daoshu shier zhong (see above).
Commentaries are primarily composed in order to elucidate the meaning of texts and to provide guidance concerning preferred interpretation. Some Daoist commentaries engage in line-by-line exegesis; others provide more general interpretation; and still others, which might not be considered commentaries as such, incorporate systematic citations of Daoist texts into a larger doctrinal framework. There are thus different approaches to and types of commentary. Commentaries may also inspire readers to actually read and reflect upon a given text. Thus, one finds summary explanations of the Huainanzi (Book of the Huainan Masters; DZ 1184) in the postface to the text. Commenting on Chapter 1, which is titled “Yuandao” (Dao-as-Source) and represents a Daoist cosmological chapter (see Chapter 6 herein), the editors explain the potential contributions of studying the chapter.
DAOIST SCRIPTURE STUDY AS A PATH TO THE DAO
“Yuandao” takes the measure of the world in all directions, explores the inchoate origins of the myriad things, traces out the lines of its grand continuities, and probes the mysteries of what his hidden and obscure, thereby taking one soaring beyond the carriage crossbar into the realm of nothingness. . .To master its message is to have access to a grand view of things on a truly panoramic scale. If one wants to capture its message in a phrase, it is to defer to what is natural and to preserve one’s genuineness. . .If one accepts and complies with its standards and precepts, and lives by them to the end of one’s days, it provides a way to respond to and deal with the world around one, and to observe and match changes as they arise. As easy as turning a ball in the palm of one’s hand, it enables one to find personal happiness. (Huainanzi, postface; adapted from Lau and
Ames 1998: 7–8; also Major et. al 2010: 849–50)
 
So, in the case of Chapter 1 of the Huainanzi, the aspiring Daoist adept receives insights into the Dao as transformative process and ways to become cosmologically attuned, specifically through Daoist practice. The postface even goes so far to suggest that simply reading and understanding the text results in physiological benefits. How then could one not want to read the text! Similarly, in the preface to his Qingtian ge zhu (Commentary on the “Song of the Clear Sky”), Wang Jie (Daoyuan [Dao’s Source]; Hunran [Primordial Suchness]; fl. 1331–80), a Yuan-dynasty Quanzhen monk, explains the value of Quanzhen poetry for Daoist self-cultivation.
AWAKENING THROUGH READING POETRY
The “Qingtian ge” (Song of the Clear Sky) was written by Perfected Qiu Changchun. As a song with flowing tones comprised of thirty-two lines, it parallels the thirty-two heavens mentioned in the Duren jing (Scripture on Salvation). This is the Dao as circulation and transformation. Each time I chant its tones, I enjoy its literary terseness and the directness and authenticity of its principles. It covers shortcuts to cultivating perfection and graduated steps for entering the Dao. The first twelve lines illuminate the foundations of cultivating innate nature. The middle twelve lines discuss the work of returning to life-destiny. The final eight lines describe the fusion of innate nature and life-destiny. This is the subtlety of spiritual transformation and casting off the embryo. When the ignorant look at worldly people, they only compose mournful writings while singing and dancing. In the end, they do not know that the principles of the ten matchings and nine harmonies are inside this. From ancient times to the present, those with mettle have composed commentaries for the benefit of later generations. When the unpretentious examine their simplicity and begin to study, nearly all of them will receive a beneficial influence on awakening. (Qingtian ge zhu, DZ 137, preface)
According to Wang, Qiu’s poem, and Wang’s commentary by extension, provides spiritual insights concerning one’s foundational vitality (ming) and spiritual capacities (xing) (see Chapters 5, 7, and 11 herein). It enables one to gain deeper insight into the nature of existence and the human condition, as well as to attain spiritual transformation and awakening through Daoist selfcultivation. For one who takes such Daoist claims seriously, one may be inspired to actually read the commentary.
Daoist commentaries thus demonstrate particular Daoist ways of reading Daoist texts. In the modern world, this is important because Daoist texts are frequently appropriated as part of “world scriptures” or “wisdom literature” without recognition of the source-tradition and without understanding of the ways in which Daoists and Daoist communities have read and interpreted the texts. That is, there are Daoist interpretations of Daoist texts, and these interpretations are venerated by Daoists. Daoist commentaries reveal the ways in which Daoist texts were interpreted and applied from Daoist perspectives and within specific Daoist communities. This point helps us to remember that texts such as the Daode jing are Daoist, that they belong to a particular tradition with its own distinctive views, practices, and experiences of reading and interpretation.
 
FURTHER READING
Bokenkamp, Stephen R. 1997. Early Daoist Scriptures. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Boltz, Judith M. 1987. A Survey of Taoist Literature: Tenth to Seventeenth Centuries. Berkeley: Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California.
Chan, Alan K. L. 1991. Two Visions of the Way: A Study of the Wang Pi and the Ho-shang Kung Commentaries on the Lao-Tzu. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Kohn, Livia. 1993. The Taoist Experience: An Anthology. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Kohn, Livia, and Michael LaFargue, (eds) 1998. Lao-tzu and the Tao-teching. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Komjathy, Louis. 2002. Title Index to Daoist Collections. Cambridge, MA: Three Pines Press.
—2003. “Daoist Texts in Translation.” http://www.daoistcenter.org/articles.html Posted on September 15, 2003. [Accessed June 1, 2012].
—2008 (2003). Handbooks for Daoist Practice. 10 vols. Hong Kong: Yuen Yuen Institute.
Robinet, Isabelle. 1998. “Later Commentaries: Textual Polysemy and Syncretistic Interpretations.” In Lao-tzu and the Tao-te-ching, edited by Livia Kohn and Michael LaFargue, 119–42. Albany: State University of New York Press.
—1999. “The Diverse Interpretations of the Laozi.” In Religious and Philosophical Aspects of the Laozi, edited by Mark Csikszentmihalyi and Philip J. Ivanhoe, 127–59. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Schipper, Kristofer, and Franciscus Verellen, (eds) 2004. The Taoist Canon: A Historical Companion to the Daozang. 3 vols. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Smith, Wilfred Cantwell. 1993. What Is Scripture?: A Comparative Approach. Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press.
 



Komjathy. Daoist Tradition:10. Meditation

   Komjathy, Daoist Tradition: 

An Introduction 2013
by Louis Komjathy

Table of Contents

Part 1: Historical Overview
1. Approaching Daoism
2. The Daoist Tradition

Part 2: The Daoist Worldview
3. Ways to Affiliation
4. Community and Social Organization
5. Informing Views and Foundational Concerns
6. Cosmogony, Cosmology, and Theology
7. Virtue, Ethics and Conduct Guidelines

Part 3: Daoist Practice
8. Dietetics
9. Health and Longevity Practice
10. Meditation
11. Scriptures and Scripture Study
12. Ritual

Part 4: Place, Sacred Space and Material Culture
13. Temples and Sacred Sites
14. Material Culture

Part 5: Daoism in the Modern World
15. Daoism in the Modern World

===
10 Meditation
 
 
Generally speaking, “meditation” involves seated postures aimed at developing some capacity, clarifying meaning and purpose, and/or deepening one’s connection to the sacred (see Chapter 6). Although meditation is often associated with seated postures and assumed to be synonymous with Buddhist meditation, there are types of meditation practice that utilize standing, walking, and supine postures. Considered from a comparative perspective, “meditation” is an umbrella category that includes various types of associated practices, including alchemy, concentration, devotion, intentional respiration (breath-centered), mindfulness, relaxation, visualization, and so forth. The goals of meditation are also diverse, and they are usually tradition-specific. These may include the attainment of higher levels of consciousness or numinous abilities; the development of attentiveness, wisdom, compassion, or some other capacity or quality; divinization (making oneself into a god) or rarification (making oneself more refined); and so forth.
Daoist meditation, most generally referred to in Chinese as dazuo (lit., “to engage in sitting”), is among the most diverse in terms of technique and orientation. Five major types of Daoist meditation may be identified: apophatic or quietistic meditation, which relates to a variety of Daoist technical terms; visualization (cunxiang); ingestion (fuqi ); inner observation (neiguan); and internal alchemy (neidan). Daoists also developed a specific type of practice for women, known as “female alchemy” (nüdan), which was first systematized during the late imperial period.
1] Apophatic meditation
Daoist apophatic or quietistic meditation is first attested to in classical Daoist texts, where it receives various technical names. These include “embracing the One” (baoyi ), “guarding the One” (shouyi ), “fasting of the heart-mind” (xinzhai ), “sitting-in-forgetfulness” (zuowang), and so forth. In contemporary Daoism, where the practice usually incorporates internal alchemy dimensions, it is usually called “quiet sitting” (jingzuo), also translated as “tranquil sitting,” “stillness meditation,” or “sitting-instillness.” Apophatic meditation emphasizes emptiness and stillness; it is contentless, non-conceptual, and non-dualistic. One simply empties the heart-mind of all emotional and intellectual content.
Classical descriptions of Daoist apophatic meditation appear in many Daoist texts (see, e.g. Roth 1997, 1999a, 1999b; also LaFargue 1992). These works provide instructions and guidelines for the practice. According to the fourth-century BCE Daode jing (Scripture on the Dao and Inner Power), “Empty the heart-mind and fill the belly. Weaken the will and strengthen the bones” (Chapter 3; also Chapter 12). We also find more detailed instructions.1
INSTRUCTIONS ON CLASSICAL DAOIST
APOPHATIC MEDITATION
Carrying the ethereal and corporeal souls, embracing the One, Can you be without separation?
Concentrating the qi and attaining softness, Can you be like a newborn child?
Cleansing and purifying mysterious perception,

Can you be without flaws?
Loving the people and governing the country, Can you abide in non-knowing?
Opening and closing the Celestial Gates, Can you become like a female?
Illuminating and purifying the four directions, Can you abide in non-action?
(Daode jing, Chapter 10)
***
Attain emptiness completely; Guard stillness sincerely.
The ten thousand beings arise together; I simply observe their return.
All beings flourish and multiply; Each again returns to the Source.
Returning to the Source is called stillness; Stillness is called returning to life-destiny. Returning to life-destiny is called constancy; Knowing constancy is called illumination.
(ibid., Chapter 16)
***
Most people are busy as though attending the Tailao feast, As though ascending a tower in spring; I alone am unmoving, showing no sign.
I resemble an infant who has not yet become a child; Lazy and idle, as though there is no place to return.
Everyone has more than enough; I alone appear as though abandoned. I have the heart-mind of a fool— Chaotic and unpredictable.
Ordinary people are bright and clear; I alone appear dim and indistinct.
Ordinary people are inquiring and discerning;
I alone appear hidden and obscure.
Like an ocean in its tranquility;
Like a high wind in its endless movement.
Each person has his reasons;
I alone am insolent as though unconcerned. I alone am different from other people; I revere being fed by the mother.
(ibid., Chapter 20)
Similarly, the fourth-century BCE “Neiye” (Inward Training) chapter of the Guanzi (Book of Master Guan) explains: “The Dao is without a set place, but the calmness of an adept heart-mind makes a place. When the heart-mind is still and qi is patterned, the Dao may then come to rest … Cultivate the heart-mind and still your thinking; the Dao may then be realized” (Chapter 5; also Chapters 14, 17, 19, and 25). This text also provides more specific guidelines.
FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS
If you can be aligned and still, Only then can you become stable.
With a stabilized heart-mind at the Center,
With the ears and eyes acute and bright,
And with the four limbs firm and fixed,
You can make a lodging-place for vital essence. (“Neiye,” ch. 8)
***
Expand your heart-mind and release it.
Relax your qi and allow it to extend.
When your body is calm and unmoving, Guard the One and discard myriad disturbances.
You will see profit and not be enticed by it.
You will see harm and not be frightened by it. Relaxed and unwound, and yet free from selfishness, In solitude you will find joy in your own being.
This is what we call “circulating qi.”
Your awareness and practice appear celestial.
(ibid., Chapter 24; see also Roth 1999a)
Both of these classical Daoist texts discuss apophatic meditation in terms of “oneness” or “unity”; chapter eleven of the Zhuangzi and the “Neiye” refer to this practice as “guarding the One” (shouyi ), which interestingly becomes a more general designation for Daoist meditation in the organized tradition (see Kohn 1989b). Paralleling the “Neiye,” the Daode jing uses the technical designation of “embracing the One” (baoyi ). In the fourth-century BCE Inner Chapters of the Zhuangzi (Book of Master Zhuang), it is presented as
“fasting of the heart-mind” (xinzhai ) and “sittingin-forgetfulness”
(zuowang).2
XINZHAI AND ZUOWANG
“You must fast! I will tell you what that means. Do you think that it is easy to do anything while you have a heart-mind? If you do, the luminous heavens will not support you. . .Make your aspirations one! Don’t listen with your ears; listen with your heart-mind. No, don’t listen with your heart-mind; listen with qi. Listening stops with the ears, the heart-mind stops with joining, but qi is empty and waits on all things. The Dao gathers in emptiness alone. Emptiness is the fasting of the heart-mind.”
(Zhuangzi, Chapter 4)
***
“I’m improving. . .I can sit in forgetfulness. . .I smash up my limbs and body, drive out perception and intellect, cast off form, do away with understanding, and make myself identical with Great Pervasion. This is what I mean by sitting-inforgetfulness.” (ibid., Chapter 6)
Based on these passages, we may reconstruct the practice. Although detailed information on pre-Buddhist meditation postures is rare in Daoism, the “Neiye” provides some hints. The text emphasizes aligning the body (zhengshen) and aligning the four limbs (zheng siti ). Based on reasonable conjecture, especially drawing upon roughly contemporaneous texts and archaeological finds (see Harper 1995, 1998; also Chapter 10 herein), it appears that the corresponding posture involved sitting on the heels in a fashion that parallels the later Japanese seiza position. The spine would have been elongated and erect, and the shoulders aligned with the hips. The hands probably rested on the lap. In addition, the practice seems to have been solitary, rather than communal. With respect to actual method, adepts sought to empty the heart-mind of emotional and intellectual activity; they endeavored to enter a state of stillness, wherein perceptual and cognitive activity decreased. This was a hypoaroused and hyperquiescent state (see Fischer 1980; Forman 1990), that is, a condition characterized by deep relaxation and decreased physiological activity. According to the texts of classical Daoism, apophatic meditation eventually leads to the dissolution of self, to the end of subject-object dichotomies and separate identity. Through dedicated and prolonged practice, one may attain a state of mystical union with the Dao and become an embodiment of the Dao in the world.
Harold Roth, who has done the most extensive research on classical Daoist apophatic meditation, has mapped the practice comparatively in terms of a variety of stages.
 
CHART 11 Stages of Classical Daoist Apophatic Meditation Source: Harold Roth (with slight modifications)
While the texts are diverse, here we may use the “Neiye” as the most technical discussion of classical Daoist meditation. According to Harold Roth (1999a: 109), “The practices outlined in Inward Training aim to generate and retain vital essence [here meaning concentrated qi] through developing an inner tranquility and an inner power associated with attaining the numinous ‘mind within the mind,’ the nondual awareness of the Way.” The text emphasizes a “fourfold aligning”: (1) Aligning the body; (2) aligning the four limbs; (3) aligning qi; and (4) aligning the heart-mind (ibid.: 109–12). The first two stages involve establishing oneself in a comfortable posture. Here we see the classical and foundational Daoist psychosomatic view: meditation practice and the associated psychological benefits (see below) are directly connected to postural alignment. Aligning qi refers to settling and circulating qi. Roth—problematically in my view— occasionally interprets the third stage as referring to breath regulation. While “aligning qi” could refer to breath regulation, it seems, instead, to indicate settling, storing, and circulating qi in the body. As mentioned in Chapters 6 and 7 herein, qi may designate both physical respiration and a more subtle energetic presence. The final stage involves stilling and emptying the heartmind, and eventually “attaining” mystical union with the Dao.
Classical Daoist texts established the foundation for later Daoist meditation practice. This is so much the case that an entire Daoist meditation manual was inspired by the second passage from the Zhuangzi. The eighthcentury CE Zuowang lun (Discourse on Sitting-in-Forgetfulness; DZ 1036), a central text of the later Shangqing movement written by Sima Chengzhen (647–735), provides the following instructions: “As a method, we refer to it as ‘blunting the sharpness and untying the knots’ [Daode jing, Chapters 4 and 56]. If you maintain constancy of cultivation, you will complete innate nature through practice. Smash up limbs and body, drive out perception and intellect, and experience detachment and forgetfulness. Unmoving in silence, you imperceptibly and subtly enter illumination” (section 6).
Many classical Daoist texts furthermore claim that there are specific benefits to meditation. For example, the “Neiye” suggests that Daoist practice will result in physical, psychological and spiritual benefits (see Roth 1999a: 118–23, 140–2, 164–9). Assuming that one has been committed to consistent and prolonged apophatic meditation, specific qualities and states will emerge.
SOME BENEFITS OF CLASSICAL DAOIST APOPHATIC MEDITATION
A complete heart-mind at the Center Cannot be concealed or hidden.
It will be known through your appearance; It will be seen in the color of your skin.
If you encounter others with this exceptional qi, They will be kinder to you than your brothers. If you encounter others with harmful qi, They will injure you with their weapons.
(“Neiye,” Chapter 18; see also Chapter 16)
This parallels other passages in the Daode jing and Zhuangzi where aspiring Daoist adepts are informed that Daoist practice will result in freedom from injury. One either does not encounter or becomes impervious to harmful influences.
2] Visualization
Daoist visualization practices were developed and systematized by two early medieval communities in particular, the Taiqing and Shangqing movements (see Chapter 2). The Taiqing alchemist Ge Hong’s (283–343) Baopuzi neipian (Inner Chapters of Master Embracing Simplicity; DZ 1185) is especially relevant. In Chapter 18, titled “Dizhen” (Terrestrial Perfection),
Ge Hong discusses “guarding the One.”
GUARDING THE ONE IN EARLY MEDIEVAL DAOISM
My teacher used to say, “By knowing the One, the myriad affairs are complete.” Knowing the One means that not a single thing remains unknown. . ..Visualize (cun; or “maintain”) it, and it is there; startle it, and it is lost. Welcome it, and there is good fortune; turn your back on it, and there is bad luck. Protect it, and there is prosperity without end; lose it and life declines with qi becoming exhausted. . ..A scripture on immortality says, “If you want perpetual life, guard the One and cultivate illumination. Meditate on the One”. . .. The One has names and colored clothing. In men it is nine tenths of an inch tall; in women it is six tenths of an inch tall. Sometimes it is located in the lower elixir field, 2.4 inches below the navel. Sometimes it is located in the middle elixir field, the Gold Portal of the Scarlet Palace below the heart. Still others find it in the Hall of Light, one inch behind the space between the eyebrows, or the Grotto Chamber, two inches in, or the upper elixir field, three inches in. (Baopuzi neipian, DZ 1185, 18.1ab)
Here “the One” does not seem to be the mystical unification mentioned in classical Daoist texts, but rather the sacred presence of the Dao manifested in distinct forms in different parts of the body. As the text says, “The One has names and colored clothing” and can be visualized in the body’s “three elixir fields” (san dantian), located in the navel, heart, and head regions. Through the practice mentioned in the Baopuzi, aspiring adepts will be able to “connect with gods” or “pervade spirit” (tongshen). By “guarding the One,” the Daoist practitioner will gain numinous abilities, including the ability “to see all the celestial numens and terrestrial spirits, and to summon all the mountain and river gods” (DZ 1185, 18.4a; see also Campany 2002: 75–85). This parallels the above-mentioned benefits associated with classical Daoist apophatic meditation.
The subsequent Shangqing movement, which had some connection to Taiqing adherents and which emerged among southern aristocracy in Jurong (near Nanjing, Jiangsu) in the fourth century (see Chapters 2 and 3), developed the most complex and systematic forms of Daoist visualization practice in Chinese history, many of which also became seminal in later Daoist internal alchemy. One of the most important and influential texts associated with the early Shangqing movement is the Huangting jing (Scripture on the Yellow Court; DZ 331; DZ 332) (see Robinet 1989a; 1993). The text exists in two editions: (1) A so-called “outer view” (waijing) text (DZ 332), which is generally considered older, predates Shangqing, and is roughly contemporaneous with some Later Han texts; and (2) A so-called “inner view” (neijing) version (DZ 331), which is probably based on the former and which might be of actual Shangqing provenance, not in content per se but in composition and application. This “inner view” is especially interesting for the way it visualizes each yin-organ of the body containing distinct body-gods, complete with esoteric names, colors, symbols, and clothing (see Chapter 7 herein).

NAMES AND APPEARANCES OF DAOIST
BODY-GODS
The spirit of the heart is [called] Elixir Origin, given name Guarding the Numen.
The spirit of the lungs is [called] Brilliant Splendor, given name Emptiness Complete.
The spirit of the liver is [called] Dragon Mist, given name Containing Illumination.
The spirit of the kidneys is [called] Mysterious Obscurity, given name Nourishing the Child.
The spirit of the spleen is [called] Continuously Existing, given name Ethereal Soul Pavilion.
The spirit of the gall bladder is [called] Dragon Glory, given name Majestic Illumination. (Huangting neijing jing, DZ 331, 3a)
***
[The youth (tongzi ) of the lungs wears] white brocade robes with sashes of yellow clouds. . .[The youth of the heart wears] flowing cinnabar brocade robes with a jade shawl, gold bells and vermilion sashes. . .[The youth of the liver wears] azure brocade robes with a skirt of jade bells. . .[The youth of the kidneys wears] black brocade, cloud robes with dancing dragon banners. . .[The youth of the spleen wears] yellow brocade, jade robes with a tiger-emblem sash. . .[The youth of the gall bladder wears] nine-colored brocade robes with a green flower skirt and a gold belt. (ibid., 3b–6a)
The original Huangting jing became a central text of Shangqing Daoism, in which visualization occupied a major position. The late Isabelle Robinet (1932–2000) attempted to map the Shangqing system (see Robinet 1989a, 1993; see also Miller 2008). Here I will simply provide some glimpses into key Shangqing visualization practices, which also became a standardized and shared repertoire in later Daoist internal alchemy. Paralleling the Huangting jing, the Dadong zhenjing (Perfect Scripture of the Great Cavern; DZ 6) provides detailed instructions on visualization. It concludes by describing how the Daoist adept creates a transcendent spirit by ingesting and coalescing cosmic ethers that descend from his or her upper elixir field.
INSTRUCTIONS ON DAOIST VISUALIZATION
Next contemplate a five-colored purple cloud entering into your body from the Niwan (Mud-ball or Nirvana) point [crownpoint]. Then swallow this divine cloud with your saliva. It will coalesce into a spirit-body wrapped in a five-colored, purple, white and roseate round luminous wheel. There is a god [or simply “spirit”] inside this wheel. Below he spreads himself within your entire body, distributing his presence (qi ) to your Nine Apertures. It coalesces on the tip of your tongue. (Dadong zhenjing, DZ 6, 6.13b–14a)
The text identifies this transcendent spirit as Diyi zunjun (Venerable Lord Sovereign One), thereby equating him with Shangshang Taiyi (Supreme Great One) of the earlier model expressed in texts such as the Huangting jing (Pregadio 2006).
Shangqing visualization practice also focused on the larger cosmos and included connecting with various constellations and hidden celestial realms. One of the most representative types of meditation focuses on the sun, moon, and stars. In the Jinque dijun sanyuan zhenyi jing (Scripture on the Perfect Ones of the Three Primes by Lord Golden Tower; DZ 253; abbr. Sanyuan zhenyi jing; cf. DZ 1314; see Andersen 1980), part of the original fourthcentury Shangqing revelations, aspiring adepts are instructed to visualize the Northern Dipper (Big Dipper) according to the method of “guarding the
One,” also referred to as “guarding the Three Ones.”
A NEW METHOD FOR GUARDING THE ONE
At midnight on the lichun (Spring Begins) node [approx. February 2nd], practice aligned meditation (zhengzuo) facing east. Exhale nine times and swallow saliva thirty-five times.
Then visualize the seven stars of the Northern Dipper as they slowly descend toward you until they rest above you. The Dipper should be directly above your head, with its handle pointing forward, due east. Visualize it in such a way that the stars Yin Essence and Perfect One are just above the top of your head. The two stars Yang Brightness and Mysterious Darkness should be higher up. In addition, Yin Essence and Yang Brightness should be toward your back, while Perfect One and Mysterious Darkness are in front. Though the image may be blurred at first, concentrate firmly and focus it in position.
Then concentrate on the venerable Lords, the Three Ones. They appear suddenly in the bowl of the Dipper above your head. Before long their three ministers arrive in the same way. After a little while, observe how the six gods ascend together

Mysterious Darkness, from where they move east. When they reach the Celestial Pass, they stop.
Together they turn and face your mouth. See how the Upper Prime supports the upper minister with his hand; how the Middle Prime supports the middle minister; and how the Lower Prime supports the lower minister.
Then take a deep breath and hold it for as long as you can. The Upper Prime and his minister follow this breath and enter your mouth. Once inside they ascend and go to the Palace of Niwan in the head.
Take another breath as deep as you can. The Middle Prime and his minister follow this breath and enter your mouth. Once inside they descend and go to the Scarlet Palace in the heart.
Take yet another breath as deep as you can. The Lower Prime and his minister follow this breath and enter your mouth. Once inside they descend and go to the lower Cinnabar Field in the abdomen.
Next visualize the star Celestial Pass and bring it down to about seven inches in front of your mouth. While this star stands guard before your mouth, the Three Ones firmly enter into their bodily palaces.
With this complete, concentrate again on the Perfected to make sure they are all at rest in their residences. From then on, whether sitting or lying down, always keep them firmly in your mind.
At any point during the practice, if concerns or desires arise in your mind, it will push to pursue them. Then, however much the mind strains to break free, make sure to keep it firmly concentrated on the Three Ones. See that you remain at peace and in solitude. Moreover, if your room is quiet enough, you may continue the practice well into the day. (Sanyuan zhenyi jing, DZ 253, 6a–7a)
Within this method, the Daoist adept visualizes the Northern Dipper, associated with “fate” (ming) in the Daoist tradition, above his or her head. The seven visible stars are identified as follows (from bowl to handle, ending with the Polestar): (1) Yangming (Yang Brightness), (2) Yinjing (Yin Essence), (3) Zhenren (Perfect One), (4) Xuanming (Mysterious Darkness),
(5) Danyuan (Cinnabar Prime), (6) Beiji (North Culmen), and (7) Tianguan (Celestial Pass). The two lower stars of the dipper bowl rest in close proximity to the top of the head, while the handle extends forward so that the seventh star, called Celestial Pass, rests in front of the mouth. At the beginning of spring, one faces east, that is, one enters a posture of cosmological alignment based on the Five Phases (Wood/spring/east) (see Chapter 6 herein). One in turn visualizes the Three Ones, also known as the Three Primes or Three Purities, in the dipper bowl. They ascend together to the fourth star, Mysterious Darkness, move to the seventh star, Celestial Pass, and wait there facing towards the adept’s mouth. The adept then visualizes each one in sequence (upper, middle, lower) entering their respective corporeal locations (Niwan [center of head], Scarlet Palace [heart], Cinnabar Field [navel region]). In this way the Three Heavens and their corresponding gods become located in the Daoist adherent’s very own body. The text, in turn, advises the Daoist aspirant to follow the same instructions for the commencements of the other seasons: Lixia (Summer Begins; approx. May 5th) facing south; liqiu (Autumn Begins; approx.
August 8th) facing west; and lidong (Winter Begins; approx. November 11th) facing north (see Chapter 6). The corresponding time seems to be the same, namely, 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. There are thus seasonal, cosmological, and theological dimensions of the practice.
 
FIGURE 15 Visualizing the Dipper
Source: Jinque dijun wudou sanyi tujue, DZ 765
3] Internal alchemy
Internal alchemy (neidan), which literally means something like “inner pill” or “inner cinnabar” and which is also translated as “inner elixir,” is a complex physiological practice aimed at complete psychosomatic transformation. Combining a variety of early traditions and dimensions of traditional Chinese culture, early internal alchemy was extremely complex. Considered as a whole, early internal alchemy includes elements from the following sources: classical Daoist texts, earlier meditational techniques, correlative cosmology, Yijing (Classic of Changes) symbology, Yangsheng views and practices, cosmological views and technical terms related to external alchemy (waidan), Chinese medical theory, and occasionally Buddhist soteriology (see Needham et al. 1983; Robinet 1989b, 1995; Pregadio and Skar 2000).
The earliest systems emerged during the late Tang and early Northern Song dynasties (see Chapter 2 herein). They are documented in the ZhongLü textual tradition, named after the famous Daoist immortals Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin, in the Quanzhen movement, and in texts of the so-called Nanzong. Generally speaking, early internal alchemy was a stage-based system that involved dedicated and prolonged practice of complex physiological techniques aimed at complete psychosomatic transformation. The goal was the creation of a transcendent spirit, usually referred to as the “immortal embryo” (xiantai ), “yang-spirit” (yangshen), or “body-beyondthe-body” (shenwai shen) (see Komjathy 2007a).
Here a word is in order about the informing worldview, specifically the associated view of self (see Chapter 7 herein). Like its antecedent tradition of external alchemy (waidan), early internal alchemy utilized a complex map of human personhood, wherein humans are understood as composed of diverse and disparate elements such as the ethereal soul (hun) and corporeal soul (po). The aim of internal alchemy is to unite these elements, through inner smelting and fusion, into a single, unified entity capable of transcending physical death. That is, ordinary human beings are composite selves destined to dissipate into the cosmos, to have the various elements separate and dissolve. From this perspective, there is no eternal soul or transcendent consciousness, and post-mortem existence is not an ontological given. However, in contrast to contemporary secular materialist perspectives of self as biological organism with a finite lifespan, early internal alchemists understood self as consisting of both biological and spiritual dimensions. These could be united into a transcendent spirit, one could become an “immortal” (xianren), but such an accomplishment was difficult and extraordinary. There was no guarantee of success. It required, first and foremost, the search for, encounter with, and acceptance by a reliable teacher. It then required spiritual direction and intensive training under one’s teacher, usually located within specific lineages. In fact, most of the early texts are highly symbolic and esoteric; they required corresponding oral instructions. That is, early internal alchemy was guarded by secrecy. The reasons for this were varied, but two recurring themes are the dangers of the practice and the potential distortion by unethical individuals who might misuse the teachings, especially as sources of egoism, authority, and personal profit.
Our understanding of internal alchemy is complicated by the highly symbolic and often obscure language of the early texts. A representative example is Zhang Boduan’s Wuzhen pian (Treatise on Awakening to Perfection; DZ 1017, j. 26–30), which is most often read in combination with later Daoist commentaries (see Chapter 12 herein). Most of the early neidan texts utilize poetic descriptions and technical alchemical terms to describe both the somatic landscape and related physiological practices. For example, the lower abdomen is the “elixir field” and “Ocean of Qi,” the heart is the “Scarlet Palace,” the kidneys are the “Dark Towers,” the tongue is the “Descending Bridge” or “Crimson Dragon,” and so forth (see Komjathy 2007a). Similarly, the texts frequently assign a technical lexicon to the various vital substances and subtle dimensions of self. Along these lines, alchemically refined saliva is called the Sweet Dew or Jade Nectar. We also find references to lead and mercury, Child and Maiden, dragon and tiger, as well as the trigrams and hexagrams of the Yijing (Classic of Changes). The technical meaning of these symbolic terms often varies depending on teacher, community, lineage, and context. As mentioned, they usually required clarification through direct spiritual direction and oral instructions by one’s teacher. The matter is complicated because straightforward technical descriptions of the various techniques are rare; there are few early technical manuals of internal alchemy.
However, as we move forward in Chinese history, we find illustrated manuals, some of the earliest of which date to the Yuan dynasty. In addition, certain authors begin to provide more explanation and guidance in writing, especially in the form of commentary on earlier texts. Little research has been done on this historical development, but we may reasonably conjecture that there were greater numbers of practitioners separated by vast geographical distances. For example, when Quanzhen was a small, local community in eastern Shandong province, it was relatively simple for Wang Zhe, the founder, to provide direct instruction to his senior disciples (see Chapter 2). However, when Quanzhen subsequently became a national monastic order, there were not enough elders to oversee the training of monks and nuns. In this context, we find the earliest illustrated Quanzhen manual of internal alchemy, namely, the Dadan zhizhi (Direct Pointers to the Great Elixir; DZ 244; see Komjathy forthcoming). As we move into the next periods of Chinese history, the Ming and Qing dynasties, there is a greater tendency towards popularization and simplification, that is, internal alchemy becomes more accessible, intelligible, and widely disseminated. It is in such texts that one finds the standardized and fairly common emphasis on a threestage alchemical process: (1) Transforming vital essence (jing) into qi; (2) Transforming qi into spirit (shen); and (3) Merging spirit with the Void.
Let us consider one influential late imperial text that exhibits the previously mentioned tendencies. The Huiming jing (Scripture on Wisdom and Life-destiny; ZW 131) is a representative and relatively accessible example of internal alchemy. It is a late eighteenth-century text on Daoist internal alchemy combined with Chan meditation and soteriology, completed by Liu Huayang (Chuanlu [Transmission Vessel]; 1735–99) in 1799. In terms of contemplative practice, the Huiming jing describes an eight-stage process of alchemical transformation according to the following diagrams and corresponding instructions:
1 Diagram of the Cessation of Outflow
2 Diagram of the Six Phases of the Dharma Wheel
3 Diagram of the Governing and Conception Channels
4 Diagram of the Embryo of the Dao
5 Diagram of Sending Out the Fetus
6 Diagram of the Transformation Body
7 Diagram of Facing the Wall
8 Diagram of Disappearance into the Void
The text begins with a now-standardized corporeal landscape emphasizing the abdominal region as the “lower elixir field,” as the place where qi is stored, and the body as a system of “meridians,” or intersecting energetic pathways. Aspiring adepts are first instructed to seal themselves off from every source of dissipation, including sensory engagement, excessive emotional and intellectual activity, and sexual stimulation. This allows one to conserve and fortify qi and spirit. Then one must activate the Waterwheel or Microcosmic Orbit, that is, connect the Governing Vessel along the centerline of the back with the Conception Vessel along the centerline of the torso. This is done by circulating qi up the back and down the front of the body so that the body becomes an integrated energetic whole, so that one activates the Daoist subtle body. Through this process, in concert with the cultivation of stillness, one becomes a spiritually integrated and transformed being.
Liu discusses the culmination of this training in both Daoist and Chan Buddhist terms. One completes the immortal fetus, attains the Buddha form, returns to the Source, and disappears into the Void. One becomes an immortal and Buddha simultaneously. From Liu Huayang’s perspective, this seems to mean the end of separate personhood and mystical union.
 
FIGURE 16 Diagram of the Embryo of the Dao
Source: Huiming jing, ZW 131
In a manner paralleling the benefits from apophatic meditation and the early medieval practice of “guarding the One” (see above), there are various numinous abilities that result from successful neidan training. An interesting modern example appears in the Yinshizi jingzuo fa (Quiet Sitting Methods of Master Yinshi; abbr. Jingzuo fa). First published in 1914 and still receiving wide circulation in contemporary Daoist and Qigong circles, the Jingzuo fa was written by the lay Buddhist adherent and Daoist sympathizer Jiang Weiqiao (1873–1958), who was a major player in the emerging Qigong movement (see Kohn 1993b; Palmer 2007). According to his own personal narrative, Jiang suffered from a weak constitution throughout his life. After practicing various Daoist methods, especially the Microcosmic Orbit, Jiang completely cured himself of all illness and attained a high level of vitality (see Lu 1964: 167–82). In addition to being a rare example of autodidacticism, having taught himself from a book, Jiang Weiqiao is interesting because he adopted a quasi-monastic life rooted in abstention from sex and alcohol and in adherence to a simple, nourishing diet (ibid.). 
4]  Nüdan: Female alchemy
Although women have occupied a central position in the Daoist tradition from the beginning, it appears that there were few, if any, methods specifically intended for or developed by female Daoists before the late imperial period. Unfortunately, little research has been done on female Daoist practice, referred to in late imperial and modern Daoism as Kundao (“women’s way”) and often associated with Daoist nuns. When women’s practice is discussed, it is most often framed as “cultivating yin” or “cultivating the feminine,” which are actually only loosely gendered ideas. In this case, “yin” or the “feminine” are best understood as dimensions of human personhood, rather than as associated with women in particular (see Chapters 6 and 7). In the modern world, one also finds much reference to “women’s Qigong” or “Daoist sexual practices,” which preliminary research indicates have little, if any, actual connection to Daoism. Specifically, semen-retention sexual intercourse, “multi-orgasmic sex,” and sexual vampirism seem to derive either from Chinese court circles or to be fairly recent Western fabrications (see Komjathy 2011b). As mentioned in other chapters, the place of sexuality and sexual activity is complex in terms of Daoism.
One of the major forms of Daoist women’s practice is female alchemy (nüdan), which is technically a form of internal alchemy specifically for women (see Despeux 1990; Wile 1992: 192–219; Despeux and Kohn 2003: 198–220; Valussi 2002; Neswald 2007). Although there are some glimpses of an emerging female alchemy in the Song, Yuan and Ming dynasties, independent and systematic manuals did not appear until the Qing dynasty, particularly during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Only some of these were actually written by women. Here we should note that Sun Buer, the only female member of the so-called Seven Perfected of early Quanzhen (see Chapters 2 and 4), is often identified as one of the matriarchs of female alchemy. This is largely because of her importance as an exemplar of women’s practice and because of a number of revealed and spuriously attributed late imperial works. These writings have been highly popular in the West through Thomas Cleary’s general audience book Immortal Sisters (Shambhala, 1989). As I have documented elsewhere, the only writings that may have been genuinely composed by Sun are contained in the fourteenthcentury Minghe yuyin (Lingering Overtones of a Calling Crane; DZ 1100; see Komjathy 2007a, 2011e, forthcoming).
The earliest works on female alchemy date from the late imperial period. In addition to Daoist practice as such, this development is interesting on a socio-historical and cultural level. At the same time that women were being disempowered through the Chinese practice of foot-binding, a cultural tradition that perhaps parallels eunuch culture in terms of men, women found a place of refuge and empowerment within Daoism. There are, of course, a number of complex feminist issues involved here, such as the relative freedom and power of women within the larger society and actual gender constructions at work in the practice itself. In terms of the emergence of female alchemy, specialized texts were primarily revealed by Sun Buer and to a lesser degree by He Xiangu (Immortal Maiden He), the latter of whom is one of the Eight Immortals (see Chapter 6; also Despeux and Kohn 2003: 135–7). The goddess Xiwangmu (Queen Mother of the West) also occupies a central position. Extant texts on female alchemy include about thirty works of uneven length, both in prose and poetry and which date from 1745 to 1892.
Preliminary research indicates that women’s practice of internal alchemy generally follows similar stages and processes of men, though there is greater emphasis on the lived experience of female embodiment, of being a woman. This includes the central importance of the breasts, heart, blood, and uterus, and on menstruation as the primary form of dissipation of women’s vital essence (jing).
 
FIGURE 17 Meditation Posture Recommended for Women
Source: Neiwai gong tushuo jiyao
Like internal alchemy, female alchemy primarily involves conservation (non-dissipation), qi circulation, and the activation of the subtle body, with the ultimate goal of immortality. In terms of specifically female practice, a variety of texts prescribe breast massage. The sequence of the nüdan practice closely resembles that of neidan practice, and nüdan theory is close in terminology, structure, and process to standard neidan theory. However, nüdan includes other dimensions which are made explicit not only in the gendering of the language, and in its distinction from what is termed nandan (male alchemy), but also in the inclusion of chapters on female morality (Valussi 2002). That is, like most traditional Daoist systems of internal alchemy, virtue and ethics are necessary foundations (see Chapter 8 herein).
In the case of female alchemy and Daoist monasticism, there are specific guidelines and principles related to female Daoist adherence (see Kohn 2004c).
According to Valussi’s detailed study of the primary texts (2002), we may create a comparative chart of the dimensions or stages of female alchemy: (1) Collecting the heart-mind; (2) Nourishing qi; (3) Practice and attainment; (4) Slaying the Crimson Dragon; (5) Nourishing the elixir; (6) Embryonic respiration; (7) Talismanic fire; (8) Receiving the medicine; (9) Refining spirit; (10) Ingestion; (11) Avoidance of grains; (12) Wall gazing; (13) Sending out the spirit; and (14) Flight and ascent (cf. Despeux and Kohn 2003: 215–20). With respect to female alchemy proper, the most distinctive method is known as “Slaying the Crimson Dragon” (zhan chilong), also translated as “Beheading the Red Dragon.” This is the female counterpart to the male ascetic and often monastic practice of “Subduing the White Tiger” (jiang baihu) and “reverting vital essence to repair the brain” (huanjing bunao), which usually involves temporary or permanent celibacy. For men, the point is to diminish or extinguish sexual desire. In the case of women, female Daoists, mainly celibate Quanzhen and Longmen nuns, aim to stop menstruation. Again, from a traditional Chinese medical perspective, and arguably from an actual experiential perspective, the primary source of depletion for women is menstruation, the inner lunar cycle from a Daoist perspective. In female alchemy, women utilize a method that ends this process. Specific methods are described in the early twentieth-century Nüdan hebian (Collected Works on Female Alchemy) by He Longxiang (fl.
1900–10):
INSTRUCTIONS ON FEMALE ALCHEMY
“Refining the form of the great yin” is very similar to the method of refinement for men. At the beginning of the practice, close your eyes and focus on the spirit, stop everything and rest for a while. Allow your heart-mind to be peaceful and your breathing to be regular. Then concentrate the spirit and direct it inside the Cavity of Qi within the breasts and above the heart’s abode. The two hands cross and hold the breasts; very lightly rub and massage them twenty times, making the qi descend of itself to the elixir field. Very slightly inhale thirty-six times, then, with your hands, hold the breasts. Revert the gaze and regulate the breathing, and after a long time, the perfect qi naturally comes and goes. Opening and closing, it nurtures and forms the outline of the body. When the spirit and qi are sufficient, the perfect yang becomes prosperous of itself, the period will cease of itself, and the breasts will be like that of a man [i.e., flat-chested]. This is called “Slaying the Crimson Dragon.” After you have practiced in this way for a long time, it will not be necessary to hold the breasts or to breath
[rhythmically]. Just concentrate the spirit within the Cavity of Qi and invert the light and reverse the gazing; this is called the door to the “mysterious female.” The authentic breathing is unhurried, vacuity reaches the utmost, peace attains at its peak. The yang qi steams up, the River Cart [Microcosmic Orbit] moves in circles, the thousand buds and the purple clouds crowd the Palace of the Jade Emperor. The thousand channels pierce through the Palace of Niwan [lit., “mud-ball”; nirvana; center of head], and you feel a spark of numinous light. Neither inside nor outside, from the lower elixir field it rises up through the Vermilion Palace [heart] and to the Palace of Nirvana. (Nüdan hebian; adapted from Valussi 2002, Chapter 4)
That is, by concentrating on the heart region, in combination with breath regulation and breast massage, menstruation will cease. According to various nüdan texts, successful practice will become apparent through the return of the female body to a prepubescent state, with the breasts diminished in size. Here we may note that menopause is not looked upon favorably in nüdan texts, because it represents nearly complete exhaustion of vital essence. Aspiring female adepts who have gone through menopause without Slaying the Crimson Dragon must practice techniques that reactivate menstruation and then practice the menstruation-cessation methods.
  
FURTHER READING
Andersen, Poul. 1980. The Method of Holding the Three Ones: A Taoist Manual of Meditation of the Fourth Century A.D. London: Curzon Press.
Kohn, Livia. 1987. Seven Steps to the Tao: Sima Chengzhen’s Zuowang lun. St. Augustin: Steyler Verlag.
—(ed.) 1989. Taoist Meditation and Longevity Techniques. Ann Arbor: Center for Chinese Studies, University of Michigan.
Komjathy, Louis. 2007. Cultivating Perfection: Mysticism and Selftransformation in Early Quanzhen Daoism. Leiden: Brill.
Komjathy, Louis, and Kate Townsend. 2010. Daoist Quiet Sitting. San Diego, CA: Wandering Cloud Press.
Pregadio, Fabrizio. 2006. “Early Daoist Meditation and the Origins of Inner Alchemy.” In Daoism in History, edited by Benjamin Penny, 121–58. London and New York: Routledge.
Robinet, Isabelle. 1993. Taoist Meditation: The Mao-shan Tradition of Great Purity. Translated by Julian Pas and Norman Girardot. Albany: State University of New York Press.
Roth, Harold. 1999. Original Tao: Inward Training (Nei-yeh) and the Foundations of Taoist Mysticism. New York: Columbia University Press.
Valussi, Elena. 2002. “Beheading the Red Dragon: A History of Female Inner Alchemy in China.” Ph.D. diss., University of London.
 
12