From pre-history forward the shaman has been connecting people to the universe through their totem to the stars to illustrate their connection to all things in nature. He provided the stabilizing structure to people’s lives. He first embodied self-love and accountability.
The shaman saw himself above the clouds amongst the stars as if dancing with dragons.
The key was always exploring and experiencing our intentions and how they connected us to nature and the stars, i.e., the universe. Today we would equate this with metaphysics at the quantum level, knowing that attentions to our thoughts form our convictions, our actions, and ultimately our experiences.
There would be no better way to show the essence of this eternal wisdom than when following the stars, the I Ching and what was one day to become known as the Tao.
The crux of the matter came with how to manifest this dominion over our own thoughts and make this happen for ourselves. How do we connect our divine thoughts to our origin or divinity and align with this universal law, and finally recognize our lives do not happen through happenstance?
It has always been that this begins by stabilizing our ego. With this we can begin to know who we are and that we are worthy, can honor the divinity of others, and maintain our relationships that help to show us the way. This was also the central teaching of the shaman, Lao Tzu and what was to become known as Taoism, and the ultimate focus of Confucianism that pinned everything to virtue and our relationships with others.
But the connecting focus has always been our knowledge of how we connect to the cosmos and the stars. In China, over a period lasting thousands of years, this idea of man’s connection of nature and the pull of the sun, moon, and stars has been the guiding force, thereby becoming the stabilizing structure of culture and society.
This understanding promoted the idea that we become mature through our beliefs. That with the introduction of what was to become Chan Buddhism in China, the mix of all three (Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism) aided by the I Ching, the idea of not competing – but that they should complement each other and define the way people saw themselves.
That by means of the individual, we could surrender to divine order – to all that there is and move into the greater mind, develop humbleness, openness and wu wei, of which I have spoken earlier. It was as if one could take Chuang Tzu’s butterfly and move beyond dreaming and not know if he was himself or the butterfly.
To in effect know that the butterfly was only the next step of the caterpillar and to know we must let go of who we think we are and simply become something else.
To recognize that as things happen to me, I become me. That it is then as things are manifested through me, I become who I ultimately will be. Through thousands of years of observation and teaching, this universal truth and metamorphosis has never changed. To act as if we are present, living the dream and ultimately become the dream ourselves as we look to the stars and the unknown. While knowing in the end, all will be as it should be.
Ancient Chinese astronomers wondered and pondered over solar eclipses and sunspots to divine future events for the emperor. Observatories were the launching pads for exploring the mystical ties between the mundane and the cosmic. One of these locations was about eight miles from Dengfeng, in Henan Province, China. Gaocheng Observatory is the oldest facility of its kind in China.
It was designed originally for use in predicting the time of the solstice each year. Astronomers at the site were able to calculate the actual length of the year to 365.2425 days some 300 years before Europeans managed to develop the Gregorian calendar.
Established in 1279 AD by the famous astronomer Guo Shoujing. It is the oldest of 27 ancient observatories in China. Built with bricks and stone, the building has two parts, the platform and the stone Chinese sundial. On the 28-foot-high platform, there are two small cottages on each side. To the north of the platform is an entry and exit, which are symmetrically arranged. Linking the entry and exit to the platform are stairs and pathways. Between the two pathways is the 93-foot-long stone Chinese sundial, which was paved by 36 slates.
According to historical records, a total of 27 observatories were built in the Yuan Dynasty, but only the one in Dengfeng is known to have survived. This site has a long tradition of astronomical observations, from the time of the Western Chou (about 700 BC), up to the early Yuan Dynasty. There is also a gnomon, an early astronomical instrument consisting of a vertical column for determining the altitude of the sun or the latitude of a position by measuring the length of its shadow cast at noon.
What this did was confirm what the shaman had always taught. That our actions our guided by universal truths and man’s connection to the cosmos and stars was in fact the real thing. That people are connected to the universe through the date of their birth and connecting to their internal energy and vibrations and what we call astrology.
We learn that things don’t just happen to us. That we are guided by our internal rhythms and vibrations that will ultimately define us. That we are not fateless victims and learn that the first step is forgiveness of ourselves and others. With this we look inside and begin to become who we really are, then manifest this as we live.
We gain a consciousness that thoughts held in mind create their own kind, a feeling that becomes energy, that then becomes vibrations. We begin to see beyond ourselves and acknowledge that we are a substance of the universe. That our fate truly lies with the stars…
This vibrational energy is called transcendence. We express this through our words, as we in turn manifest our good. It is through our visualization and writing we create an awareness of what we are creating. With this as our focus, we move into who we are and what it is what we want to do. We shift and move in the direction of knowing the next step and what we want to happen. Once known, we can live without regret, and do what we are each here to find and do.
Below is the first entry of my own interpretation of the I Ching I wrote in February 1994. The complete book, “An American Journey through the I Ching and Beyond”, that was published in China ten years later in 2004, can be found on my website, thekongdanfoundation.com in the tab Voices of the Dragon.
Cloud Dancing
From the clouds dragons appear to those who have prepared.
To the I Ching, heaven is to be found residing with dwellings of dragons who roam the sky resting in the clouds.
Do not look for me where you have found me before. You will not see me where you have seen me before.
Dancing in the clouds with the immortals is where I am to be found. To be seen with dragons. Cavorting above it all. Beyond earthly endeavors.
A strong personality who with compassion and caring succeeds by seeing his destiny in the clouds.
Finding the Tao, finding oneness and finding myself floating across the ski with chi. Cloud Dancing across the sky is easy living with dragons is not.
A group of dragons are seen riding the clouds disappearing through the sky. As we disappear, I look back and see dragons resting on clouds dwelling in the sky.
An original composition and interpretation of the Chinese Classic the I Ching (1 HEAVEN / Heaven over Heaven). 2/3/94
Summary of the Ten Wings
In writing notes and comments on the Zhouyi, the author would have to make an assumption that those Yi aficionados reading the blog would have acquired a minimum of ten years reading the Book of Changes and also own a copy of the Richard Wilhelm translation. However not all readers would fall under the categories of a minimal ten years of study and/or owning a W/B translation, therefore one has to summarize the Ten Wings for fellow students who would like to know more about the technical aspects of Yi studies, and/or about the Ten Wings.
In the Wilhelm/ Baynes English translation, Richard Wilhelm explained in Book II – The Material – that The Book of Changes is a work that represents thousands of years of slow prolonged reflection and meditation. The material presented in the second portion of their translation consists chiefly of what has come to be known as the Ten Wings. These ten wings, or expositions, contain in substance the oldest commentary literature relating to the Book of Changes.
The first of the commentaries – the First and Second Wings – is called Tuan Zhuan. The Tuan Zhuan or Commentary on the Decision gives exact interpretations of King Wen’s decisions (judgments), on the basis of the structure and the other elements of the hexagrams. This commentary (made available under individual hexagrams in Book III) is an extremely thorough and valuable piece of work and throws much light upon the inner organization of the hexagrams of the I Ching. The Chinese ascribed it to Confucius.
The Third and Fourth Wings are formed by the so-called Xiang Zhuan, Commentary on the Images. In its present form it consists of the so-called Great Images (Da Xiang), which refer to the images associated with the two trigrams in each hexagram; from these the commentary in each case deduces the meaning of the hexagram as a whole, and from this contemplation in turn draws conclusions applicable to the life of man. Besides the Great Images, this commentary contains also the Small Images. These are very brief references to the Duke of Zhou’s comments on the individual lines of the hexagrams.
The Fifth and Six Wings is entitled Hsi Tzu, or Da Zhuan, and likewise has two parts. The title Da Zhuan means Great Commentary, or Great Treatise.
The Seventh Wing, named Wen Yen (Commentary on the Words of the Text), is a very important section. It is the remnant of a commentary on the Book of Changes – or rather of a whole series of such commentaries – and contains very valuable material deriving from the Confucian school. Unfortunately, it does not go beyond the second hexagram, Kun.
The Eighth Wing, Shuo Kua, Discussion of the Trigrams, contains material of great antiquity in explanation of the eight primary trigrams.
The Ninth Wing, Hsu Kua, the Sequence – or Order – of the Hexagrams, offers a rather unconvincing explanation of the present sequence of the hexagrams. It is interesting only because the names of the hexagrams are sometimes given peculiar interpretations that are undoubtedly based on ancient tradition.
The last (Tenth) wing, Tsa Kua, Miscellaneous Notes on the Hexagrams, is made up of definitions of the hexagrams in mnemonics verses, for the most part contrasting them in pairs.
April 7, 2017, Facebook entry note I am honored now to have almost 100 followers here on my page. Who is my audience? It varies greatly. Some have casual interest in China, some interest in gaining awareness and sense of enlightenment, others more academic, and still more just curious about where Dan is going with all this… And still others just like the accompanying pictures. Context is everything and my goal is to bridge the gap that leads all to better, more universal understanding that we are all connected and from the same source. For myself, China has an uninterrupted history of more than 5,000 years with a story to tell and I aspire to be found as one of the storytellers.
Some explanation is required here… What are the Ten Wings? They are commentaries representing thousands of years of slow prolonged reflection and meditation. These ten wings, or expositions, contain in substance the oldest commentary literature relating to the Book of Changes, or the I Ching.
The Fifth and Six Wings constitute a treatise known as the Dazhuan, and likewise has two parts.
The title Dazhan means Great Commentary, or Great Treatise. I have completed my own interpretation of the Dazhan on my website thekongdanfoundation.com. It is a book waiting to be published…
I added the second entry (1.2) here of the Fifth Wing of the Dazhuan on February 26th. I thought I had done the first entry earlier… I did not. The first entry is below. Why was the Dazhuan so important in Chinese history? A parallel today in USA would be deciding the merits of the constitution, what it really means, and through commentary determine how it is to be interpreted. Interpreting the “real meaning” of I Ching was the basis of all that followed that formed Chinese social, political, and religious thought. It served as the starting point, or benchmark, to Chinese culture.
Part 1 of the Dazhuan
1.1 The Dazhuan 5th Wing Part I Number 1
A cosmic analogy – How Heaven and Earth define Change
There is a symbolic reality of what lies between figures formed in Heaven and are shapes on Earth as high and low places are spread about as both movement and stillness. Just as with in the face of Heaven each person stands alone, there are limits to what is knowable.
Just as there are gates in which things come and go always transforming into being something new. The energies that are at work in Heaven and Earth also drive the symbols of change as we observe that events never happen alone and that all changes and the transformation of Heaven and Earth reside in the Yijing, or I Ching. The symbols of change found in the I Ching contain the formative power of both Heaven and Earth as whole and broken lines that distinguish that events are both different and the same and can be interpreted and understood. These transformations can be seen in the movement found in the Eight Diagrams, the bagua. These three-line figures contain the energy of natural processes: as thunder and lightning stimulate, wind and rain fertilize, sun and moon move on their prescribed courses and after cold comes heat.
The fundamental symbols of change are chien and kun. They contain the power of Heaven and Earth and serve to connect us directly with change. Chien (Heaven) helps us to change spontaneously letting us know change in our hearts. Kun (Earth) makes and completes everything. This gives us the ability to act without complications or pride (ego) and lets us follow change in life with simplicity and spontaneity. When we open ourselves to the influence of change, we acquire the ability to gain both the deep affection of others and ability to lead our own life as an independent person.
The Great Treatise tells us, “What is readily recognized is accepted. What is readily followed brings success. What is accepted can endure and what brings success can grow great. Endurance is the wise man’s power; greatness is the wise man’s task. Being spontaneous and simple means grasping the principles of all under Heaven; grasping the principles of all under chien, or Heaven, means finding one’s place in the midst of kun, or earth”. This is called the “Great Enterprise”.
The key to initiating a sense of understanding change is becoming aware of what is known as symbolic reality that teaches you to see the pattern of things. It is this symbolic reality that becomes our own reflection. Staying in the middle is a step towards freedom from compulsive emotion, the fear of anticipation, and sorrow over the unexpected. The I Ching gives you direct access to the symbolic world behind appearances and with practice the ability to know that lies ahead.
Tranquil Abiding
Moving people to their ultimate endeavor and destiny has always been the role of the shaman, sage, and the philosophers over the centuries. In the process of doing so, developed their own “commentary or take” on what was really meant in the writing or thought that came before them. It is the forever quintessential, as attempts at gaining the pure meaning and essential essence or embodiment of what was said has always been what remained. It is this that writers have tried to replicate through their own thoughts, writing, and commentaries over the centuries. In other words what did they really mean.
How do we manifest our highest endeavor and understand that “being” is more important than “doing”? Or as Confucius relayed “It is better to relate than create”. That we should endeavor to develop a tranquil mind and find comfort in being “in the silence”.
This leads to a daily practice of meditation. This can mean a sitting practice, or simple paying attention with a mindful indestructible presence as we go about our daily lives. Paying attention as if we are in alignment with universal principles from a conscious mind. Gaining a oneness with source we find our true identity… or are consistently moved in that direction and become limited only by the sincerity of our intentions. The ultimate goal is to find what has always been present within you.
When I was writing my book entitled “My Travels with Lieh Tzu”, more than twenty-five years ago, I was inspired by an article in the May 1995 issue of the Shambhala Sun by the Dalai Lama to write and include the entry below. You can find the entire text of my book at thekongdanfoundation.com website.
68. Tranquil Abiding
Finding the peace of mind from within. Striving for contentment while staying wholly within yourself with simple simplicity and an innate sense of modesty. Finding a certain strength of character so as to not be challenged nor surrender to the provocative that leads to an affluent or comfortable lifestyle or way of life.
As you find the natural temperament within yourself, the stronger your will and capacity to endure hardship. With this, you will gain enthusiasm and forbearance laying a solid foundation for spiritual progress to develop a singleness of mind and penetrating insight.
Aspire only to tranquil abiding. Strive for and achieve a sense of contentment and modesty and an ethically sound and disciplined way of life. In thinking about disciple it cannot be imposed from outside. But must come from within yourself. Discipline should be based on a clear awareness of its value and also a degree of introspection and mindfulness. Once ingrained, it becomes automatic or self-imposed. You then become free to develop alertness and mindfulness.
When you have developed these two basic factors of awakening, then you can attain singleness of mind. Have no personal involvements or obligations that will direct your attention from the path you must now follow.
Transcend the limits of your human existence. Forever losing your identity and endeavoring to take care of your ultimate aspiration. Understand the role of attachments and clinging and use them in letting go. With little or no obligation and involvement remain free to fly away. DCD 4/12/95
The World Upside Down in Taoist Internal Alchemy
INTRODUCTION
Internal alchemy, or Neidan, is a technique of enlightenment whose earliest extant written records date from the eighth century. It appeals both to rationality, which gives order to the world, and to what transcends rationality: the unspeakable, the Totality.
Its main tools are the trigrams of the Yijing (Book of Changes) and a number of key metaphors, some of which are alchemical in nature, whence the name, “internal alchemy.” Alchemy begins with a binary structure made of two complementary and antagonistic terms: pure Yin and pure Yang.
However, their binary structure admits complexity with two other mixed terms, born from the union of the first two: Yin containing Yang, and Yang containing Yin. A neutral term, the Center, is beyond the conjunction and the disjunction of the other two. The principle consists in ordering the world by means of multiple and complex reference points built on the basis of these initial data and of a multi-layered structure. Here lies the rationality of alchemy, in the sense of providing order and intelligibility. However, being a didactic technique oriented toward mysticism, alchemy also involves the denial of its own system.
This denial is achieved by several means: the reminder that silence is the foundation of the word; the continuous evocation of Unity, which merges and abolishes all reference points; the adoption of a fundamentally metaphoric language that must be surpassed; the recurrent disruptions in the continuity of discourse; the use of images that play at several levels, operating now in one direction, now in the opposite, levels that are related to one another until being unified; the ellipsis that handles two different entities as equivalent; the reciprocal encasing of all images, so that “the child generates its mother” and the contained is the container; the multiplicity of facets, times, and reference points superimposed above one another, which counteracts the fragmentation wrought by rational analysis.
The alchemists, therefore, use a highly structured language, but transgress it by introducing a negation of their own system, and by expressing, through a system of reciprocal encasing, a duality absorbed into Unity, a rationality traversed by irrationality. The language of alchemy is a language that attempts to say the contradictory. One facet of this system is the theme of the “world upside down.”
Look at the gate of death as the gate of life, do not take the gate of life to be the gate of death. The one who knows the mechanism of death and sees the reversal begins to understand that the good is born within the evil.
1 The Sun in the West, the Moon in the East. Heaven is Earth, Earth is Heaven. This symbolizes the growth and union of Yin and Yang, the reversal [of the course] of the five agents.
2 “Reversal” (diandao) is one of the basic principles of internal alchemy. This principle takes many forms and is applied in different ways.
To obtain the Golden Elixir—the equivalent of the Philosopher’s Stone—one should go through several reversals. According to a sentence often quoted in the texts,
“Those who go in the ordinary sense give birth to human beings; those who go backward find immortality.”
Li Daochun (fl. ca. 1290) explains that there are two directions. One of them follows the ordinary course and goes toward the end: it is the “operation” (yong), the actuation. The other goes backward, and consists in returning to the Origin: it is the “substance” or the “body” (ti) of all things. If you know the origin and ignore the end, you cannot expand; if you know the end and ignore the origin, you cannot attain the foundation of subtlety. Those who go back to the Origin are vaguely and indistinctly joined with the Ultimateless.
Those seeing the world as upside down go to the end and are born, transform themselves, and die endlessly. Going backward and going forward are necessary to one another, because the origin and the end are not two and subject to change. However, the ordinary persons who “follow the course” generate other beings.
The seekers of immortality, who go backward, generate an embryo of immortality within themselves: they self-regenerate. The ordinary course follows the sequence of the seasons—winter, spring, summer, and autumn—and the sequence of four of the five agents associated with the seasons: Water, Wood, Fire, and Metal. To the uninitiated, this all seems too extreme to understand, but this understanding has taken thousands of years to come forward to today.
The alchemists often insist that the opposite course causes Water to generate Metal, and Wood to generate Fire.
Since Metal is related to the West and its traditional emblem is the Tiger, they say that the Tiger emerges from Water and the North. Similarly, Wood is related to the Dragon and the East, but emerges from Fire and the South. Therefore, the backward rotation is performed by going from North to West, and from South to East. Time is traced in a backward sequence.
The normal flow of time leads to death; those who seek immortality move toward youth and birth. The wheel of Heaven turns to the left; the Sun, the Moon, and the planets turn to the right. The wheel of Heaven turning to the left causes the movement of the four seasons; the Sun and the Moon turning to the right transform the ten thousand beings.
Therefore, red cinnabar, which symbolizes Fire, is placed in the South, and is the Red Bird. As it moves to the East, this cinnabar generates Mercury, which is of a green color and symbolizes Wood; it is placed in the East and is the Green Dragon. Black lead belongs to Water, is placed in the North, and is the Dark Warrior. As it turns to the West, black lead generates White Silver.
Therefore, it is said that Fire turns to the East and is the Dragon (while Fire traditionally is the Red Bird and turns to the West), and Water turns to the West and is the Tiger (instead of being the Dark Warrior). This means that the True Breath of the Great Tripod secretly moves according to the turning of Heaven; and as for the symbolism of the Moon, the Sun and the planets, they turn to the right.
But within the Tripod there is only the One Breath, and not external objects. Thus, Fire going East and Water going West turn toward the left, contrary to the traditional sense. YIN AND YANG One of the basic principles of Chinese internal alchemy consists in using two elements that by themselves summarize the entire alchemical Work. The two principles are Yin and Yang, but can be symbolized by West and East, Metal and Wood, Dragon and Tiger, Fire and Water, the feminine and the masculine, and so forth.
However, an important feature of this discipline is that it is only concerned with True Yin, which is the Yin enclosed within Yang, and with True Yang, which is the Yang enclosed within Yin. These are the concealed core, the hidden internal truth; they are the materials or the “ingredients” of alchemy. The goal here is to bring the internal and the hidden toward the external and the visible.
In terms of trigrams, the picture can be described as follows (see tables 6 and 7). Two trigrams are at the origin of all others, their father and mother. They are Qian, which is related to Heaven and is made of three Yang solid lines, symbolizing pure Yang; and Kun, which is related to the Earth and is made of three broken lines, symbolizing pure Yin. Qian and Kun joined and gave birth to the other trigrams, two of which are especially important for the alchemist: Kan and Li. The inner line of Kan (a Yang line enclosed between two Yin lines) and the inner line of Li (a Yin line enclosed within two Yang lines) are True Yang and True Yin, respectively.
Their multiple meanings and functions cannot be fully described here. Let it suffice to say that they represent the trace and the union of the father and the mother; and that they express above all a fundamental principle of interdependence: there is no Yin without Yang, and vice versa, or there would be sterility.
The Alchemical Language, or the Effort to Say the Contradictory
INTRODUCTION
The alchemical masters face the universal problem of transmitting and translating the unspeakable into words. “How can we seek the mysterious and the wondrous in a discourse?” asks Zhang Boduan.
1. The Dao is unspeakable, and the mystical experience is inexpressible; yet, say the masters, in order to expound and transmit them, one is bound to use the language.
Mindful of the words of Zhuangzi, according to whom one could speak for a whole day without saying anything, but also be speechless for a whole day without ever being silent.
2. They resort to a language that leaves space to silence, which they always evoke, to the unspoken, and to the additional meanings. Since there is always something left unexpressed, the masters summarize and remind what has already been said, they repeat and expand the old discourses, attempting at the same time to recover the world, the language, and the use that was done of it, and to complete and renew it.
The alchemists’ undertaking, nevertheless, consists in methodically relying on language in order to transmit and to instruct. Reminding the value of silence is not sufficient: they try to introduce it in their discourse. They reiterate that their discourse is only a vehicle that leads to the wondrous.
In Zhuangzi, chapter 27; from Watson, The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, p. 304:
“With words that are no-words, you may speak all your life long and you will never have said anything. Or you may go through your whole life without speaking to them, in which case you will never have stopped speaking.”
They intend to “give form to the Formless by the word, and thus manifest the authentic and absolute Dao,” says Li Daochun, who adds…
“Words are only steps to be climbed, and that once the highest point has been reached, no word applies anymore”.
Understanding that there is a mechanism that surpasses them. This is not easy to explain, but one should comprehend beyond words.”
We need to recall Chen Zhixu (1290–ca. 1368) who makes a distinction between “the way that establishes a discourse,” which consists not only of words but also of practices, fasts, meditations, etc., and the “transmission of the heart,” a concept borrowed from Buddhism.
This transmission tightly combines action and non-action and is the “Great Way” of alchemy.
Chen Zhixu explains that the intent of Taoism is to convey the “wonder” of true emptiness, the fullness intertwined within emptiness —unlike Buddhism, whose mission is to show that “wondrous emptiness is not empty.” In other words, the task of the Taoists is to insist on the positive aspects of emptiness. They emphasize, to a larger extent compared to the Buddhists, the reality of the world, which is made even more real by being traversed by emptiness.
This is why, adds Chen Zhixu, one should give materiality to that reality by the intermediation of language.
6 Peng Xiao (?–955) designates the cosmic Man, founder of the world, as the Saint. Accordingly, he states that “he has not lightly created a discourse that would mislead the future generations. Therefore, he has called the Sun and the Moon as his witnesses, has examined the luminous spirits, has separated the firm (Yang) from the flexible (Yin), has shown and revealed Metal and Water, has taken the Dragon and the Tiger as metaphors, and has used images (xiang).”
Anoth translation from Watson says that for the alchemical masters, however, saying is not enough. They want to show. They must actively urge their disciples to walk along with the Zhuangzi, chapter 26; The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, p. 302:
“The fish trap exists because of the fish; once you’ve gotten the fish, you can forget the trap. The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit; once you’ve gotten the rabbit, you can forget the snare. Words exist because of meaning; once you’ve gotten the meaning, you can forget the words. Where can I find a man, who has forgotten words so I can have a word with him?”
Just like one should go beyond the phenomenal appearance of things, so it is necessary to surpass the letter of the texts and of their codes, pondering at the same time the inexhaustible meaning that they contain. When the alchemists say that all of their language consists only of metaphors, this means that they disguise the Truth, that they do not speak it because this is something that cannot be done.
It also means that what they speak about differs from the meaning of the words that they use, because this is, paradoxically, the most correct way of conveying what is impossible to say. Their language functions by means of a distantiation that is continuously reminded: the finger is not the moon; the net is not the prey.
Only the allusive mode that they systematically use can account for the double character of existence—which is and at the same time is not, which acquires fullness by being traversed by Emptiness but cannot be apprehended in itself, and of which one can only grasp the appearance and the trace. The alchemists, therefore, create their own language. Somehow it must function—they must make it function—in front of the adept in order to say what has already been said many times, and could be summarized in a few words.
Paradoxically, the speaker is not the Zhonghe ji, Xiao Yanzhi, master himself. On the one hand, it is the Dao: like the Saint, one should “establish the teaching by embodying Heaven, and transform the people through the action of the Dao.” But, on the other hand, it also the Neidan, the method, the pedagogic artifice—that is, the language.
Witness to this are the many quotations and the constantly repeated leitmotivs that embroider the texts: their redundancy is intentional. And since this language is symbolic and possesses multiple facets that are revealed by making them turn around and around under different lights, the masters are not weary of letting this language mirror itself, of playing its multiple layers, of discovering in it relations and enunciations that are always new.
Their language, in fact, is also the fruit of a reflection on language; and it aims to stimulate the continuation of that reflection. The word “mirror” leads us to consider another aspect of this manipulation. The alchemical language is a mirror play, an immense enigma that embeds many smaller ones, a koan similar to those of Zen.
Neidan indeed acts on the adept as a koan, as a conundrum whose efficacy resides precisely in the sort of seduction and fascination that it clearly instigates on those who use it—be they the masters or the adepts. It is a mechanism that they are never tired of playing chants, poems, essays, dialogues, and charts are produced by the master’s and are requested by the disciples, are unceasingly transmitted, augmented, broken up, and then recomposed. The numerous commentaries on the major Neidan texts are examples of these decipherings that could vary without end.
The masters display in them their creativity; the adepts find in them something on which they can fix their spirit, and make it operate. But, as the texts say, it is in emptiness that the figures of this language, the xiang, are suspended, all fastened to one another. Yet, the masters entrust these figures, the xiang, with the task of operating on the spirit of their disciples.
In a way, this alchemy forms an immense personification of our individual role in the universe. The entire Yin-Yang binary system on which it operates is the sail that is blown by the boat, but at the same time makes the boat move.
This discourse by means of figures serves to indicate that the discourse in its entirety consists only of figures. And this rhetoric of provisional figures aiming to their resolution is on its own a figure of speech and signals a speech on the figures.
The Alchemical Language
The conception that the masters have of the operational mode of language is intimately related to the conception that the Chinese tradition has of it; under this light, it is probably not by chance that Taoism—the religion that, unlike Buddhism, has the deepest roots in China—has followed this way. As is well known, the Chinese have little inclination for theoretical and abstract thought, independent of factual situations. Abstract names are absent from their language, and the conditional is hardly used in it.
Neidan shares the same active conception of language with Confucianism, even though it maintains that language cannot really convey the entirety of meaning. It is the interrelationship between texts, especially works of literature; the way that similar or related texts influence, reflect, or differ from each other, with a constant production of meaning, the texts labor and are themselves a labor, and become practice.
They can be perpetually re-invented starting from a paradigm that is never exhausted, from a founding text that is not written but is readable, which is the Dao, or the Truth, and from the method of interpretation, the alchemy.
Each user of a text is inevitably called to be one of its creators: here lies the very function of a text. He is invited to find new forms for it, in a ludic way. This paradigm becomes a collective work, whose origins cannot be located and who’s individual, or particular readings, writing, or system of expressed or implicit references are single instances that open themselves up onto all others.
Each text and each commentary are an example of productive and creative reading in an infinite play of mirrors that reflect one another as far as the eyes can see, even though each of them is oriented in a slightly different way so that the aggregate, which is never finished and is always plural, opens itself up onto the entire universe, which is never closed or never finished.
In this sense, the texts do not let themselves be measured. Thus, the true reader is the one who perceives the infinite plurality of the text, which is an image of the plurality of the universe, of its many determinants that admits its own reversibility and its own contradictions; and the one who perceives the canons or texts like, for example, the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality).
This means that these texts are “classical,” canonical, and foundational because they do not have only one real sense and are created precisely in order to contain simultaneous multiple senses. In addition to being a medium of communication, language is also a means of ordering the world and of giving it a meaning. Through language, a possible world can be articulated, and a desired world can be structured; through language, that project can be communicated, and the creation of that world can take place. According to the Confucians, the prince owns the word: he names, and by doing so, he “gives order.” The founding heroes of Chinese civilization, Yu the Great or Fu Xi, who drew the world in order to organize it, are witnesses of this. The “names” are the tools by which the sage organizes the world—this is an axiom that enjoys a large consensus among Chinese thinkers.
This conception has led them to reflect on the good use of language. For them, language affects the behavior, and the effect verifies the sense and the truth of a term or a discourse. Within Confucianism, for which the social tissue is a fundamental reality, the name of an individual and even his title corresponds to a personal and ontological reality. They are not merely signals, but testimonies of intelligibility: the problem of language is related to the axiological status of beings and entities. The same conception of the active force of language and of names is also found within the Shangqing tradition of Taoism, where knowing the names of divine places and divine beings is indispensable for salvation.
This conception of language allows one to consider that language may be re-generating, that the subject can be re-created by means of the language. This is context in which the alchemy takes place. This typically Chinese conception of language is supplemented by the alchemical masters with a concern—no less typically Chinese—for determining the position of concepts and images in relation to one another; in other words, for marking the distances that exist between the individual concepts and images and the paths that lead from one.
Moving Mountains
If there is something to be said for our attempts to raise our thoughts and actions in what would be seen as an “upward spiral of consciousness” that propels us to be a participant with universal law, what would that entail, or be? To become an instrument of change, or co-creator with our source. To channel our consciousness and know all that I/we are is God, and as such we become universal. That there is no separation with divine consciousness. I met such a person in my travels in China.
This idea has always been manifested with our connection with nature and the transcendent experiences we share. As we reflect on Easter this past week, it is easy to see how Jesus was an expression of this oneness. How Jesus is seen as connecting us with our own divine potential… as our Christ divinity. This divinity is not exclusionary. He and other figures who have manifested here on earth (Buddha, Lao Tzu, Mohammed, Moses etc.,) appeared here for our awakening. Not just to better define what may be called “salvation”, but to direct us to become who we really are and to become true to whatever this means. This is sometimes referred to as having an “absolute knowing” that brings forth the power within each of us.
It is here where we sometimes get confused as to our role and that our role can be defined for us.
It is here that I recall a Christian minister I met in China in 2004. We became good friends as I prepared to publish the Daily Word in China. Over the years, we fell out of touch and while teaching at Jining University we met again at his church in 2013. I learned he had spent four years in prison. Time spent to re-direct or modify his message… He was preaching again at his church. The vibrations I felt from him were a little overwhelming. He seemed to me truly transcendent, as if he knew that we each have power beyond measure. That God, in whatever form, religion, or philosophy we choose, is expressed “as me – through me – then through ourselves and others.” That sometimes it’s not until that faith faces the ultimate challenge that our role can be truly defined. That we are each here to find and be the light that shows the way.
That we are here to “move mountains”. That the healing of our relationships with people and our environment must begin within ourselves. That it is through language we can begin to move people. That it is in this way we can “stand in the knowing” to step into the peace that saves both us and the world. There is a famous story in ancient China about “moving mountains”.
It is on my website thekondanfoundation.com under the tab My Travels with Lieh Tzu, number 76…
76. The Mountains of Tenacious Sincerity
After a lifetime of going around the mountains to get to a place directly in front of him, an old man decided that this was much too far to come and go. That the mountains should be leveled and thrown into the surrounding sea. So that a road straight through could be built and travel to places a distance away could be made much closer. All agreed, except the man’s wife who argued that at the age of ninety he was too weak to raze even the smallest hill.
Soon the work began as he and his sons broke up the stones one at a time and began carrying them to the sea. Those passing by scoffed at the idea. Asking how a man in declining years could damage mountains several thousand feet high, he responded: “Certainly your mind is set to firm for me ever to penetrate it. Even when I die, I shall have sons surviving me. My sons will beget me more grandsons, my grandsons in their turn will have sons, and these will have more sons and grandsons. My descendants will go on forever, but the mountain will get no bigger. Why should there be any difficulty in leveling it?”
All those doubting the old man’s tenacity were at a loss for words. The mountains spirit began to get irritated at those pecking at their feet and upon checking it out, heard about what was going on and were afraid the old man would not give up.
They reported the story to God, who was overwhelmed by the sincerity of the old man and his efforts. God commanded that the mountains be moved, one the Shuo Tung the other to Yung Nan. Since that time, the area where the old man’s descendants remain is as flat as can be and can be traveled across with ease. The forbidding mountains long gone. With the strength of one’s sincerity what task can possibly be too overwhelming. 4/19/95
Moving mountains and standing with this knowing, stepping into the power to create peace in the world as we each overcome obstacles. As we recognize it is through our faith, we acknowledge the divinity within us and the ultimate nature of non-resistance. First finding peace within us, then moving outward towards others by standing for what is right. Others soon begin to see your actions, and soon see beyond their own limiting view to what can be done that serves the needs of everyone, nature, and the universe from which we came.
Learning to create One’s destiny
“Creating Destiny” is about forming one’s fate rather than be bound by it. Learning to create our destiny discusses the principle behind fate and the knowledge necessary to change it. By relating his own experience and trials at changing destiny, Chinese tradition teaches from father to son, not to be bound by fate, but rather to put forth our best effort in practicing kindness and cutting off evil.
You should not reject doing a kind act simply because it seems to be a minute goodness or commit an evil deed simply because it appears to be a small evil. Allowing evil to occur is the same as doing evil ourselves. If one practices in a proper manner, it is assured that one’s destiny can be changed.
It is often said, “Refraining from all evil and practicing all forms of kindness brings about the dispersion of disasters and the coming of fortune”. This is the principle behind creating one’s destiny. How do we do this… by understanding cause and effect and that our actions have consequences as we continually move to our “highest or ultimate aspiration” and helping others to find theirs as well through service.
Becoming a guidepost for others is the true definition of benevolence taught by Confucius in 500BC. It was the culmination of more than two thousand years of human interaction. Today we would call someone following this idea a pragmatist as they heed the axiom… to do unto others as we would have them do unto us.
In China, we do this by understanding the I Ching and the need to return to the beginning, or source, to reflect on what may be our ultimate role that defines our endeavors and ultimate destiny. History tells us that man can change his fate… My interpretation of the Dazhuan, a treatise written in the second century BC, that was written as a guide, or basic agreement between Confucians and Taoists as to the proper interpretation of the meaning of the I Ching continues below. The Dazhuan is known as the 5th and 6th Wings of what is generally referred to as the “Great Commentary”.
The Dazhuan 5th Wing Part I Number 3
1.3 The Statements – What the Words Show
We first look to how great and small are related in the Yijing (I Ching) and in our lives as the images and symbols that connect us to the invisible world. Great and small are key words, the oldest terms for yin and yang. Through them we know if we should be forceful and follow our own idea or are flexible and yield to others. It is the hexagrams that refer to figures while the line statements refer to alternations. In reading the lines auspicious and disaster means success and failure. Trouble and distress refer to minor mistakes; no misfortune means mistakes can be mended. Therefore, what is seen as noble or base depends on position, just as sorting out what is great or small depends on the hexagram while discerning rather something is auspicious or disastrous depends on the statement. Worrying at trouble and distress depends on the risk as quaking at no misfortune depends on distress. Thus, the hexagrams deal with great and small, the statements deal with danger and comfort and show the way things are going.
It would be those who could successfully read the symbols that made consulting the spirit world central to what could be known and what could not be known. Just as we ourselves are in constant transformation, our spirit always advancing and withdrawing as we look for and to a change of heart. (continued in thekongdanfoundation.com in the tab The Dazhuan – The Meaning of the I Ching).
The importance of Mencius to Chinese history and philosophy
Because of my upcoming plans to return to China and Tibet in a few weeks, I wanted to highlight a very important figure in Chinese history, Mencius. I will be attending a wedding of one of my students in Zoucheng, the birthplace of Mencius on my trip to China. A city I have visited many times in the past. Mencius was born in the State of Zou, now a county-level city of Zoucheng in Shandong province, about eighteen miles south of Qufu, Confucius’ birthplace. He was an itinerant Chinese philosopher and sage and one of the principal interpreters of Confucianism. The picture below is of one of my students at the gate of the Mencius Temple I took during a visit in the Spring of 2013. Supposedly, he was a pupil of Confucius’ grandson, Zisi. Like Confucius, according to legend, he travelled throughout China for forty years to offer advice to rulers for reform. During the Warring States period (403–221 BC), Mencius served as an official and scholar at the Jixia Academy in the State of Qi (1046 BC to 221 BC) from 319 to 312 BC. He expressed his filial devotion when he took three years leave of absence from his official duties for Qi to mourn his mother’s death. Disappointed at his failure to effect changes in his contemporary world, he retired from public life. What is most amazing to me, is that this Temple (park), dedicated to his memory and contribution was not constructed for more than a thousand years after his death.
Below is a picture of a Yuan Dynasty turtle with a stele honoring Mencius I took during one of my visits. Mencius’s interpretation of Confucianism has generally been considered the orthodox version by subsequent Chinese philosophers, especially by the Neo-Confucians of the Song dynasty. Mencius’s disciples included a large number of feudal lords and he was actually more influential than Confucius had been. The Mencius (also spelled Mengzi or Meng-tzu), a book of his conversations with kings of the time, is one of the Four Books that Zhu Xi grouped as the core of orthodox Neo-Confucian thought. In contrast to the sayings of Confucius, which are short and self-contained, the Mencius consists of long dialogues, including arguments, with extensive prose. Mencius believed that if a ruler were a man of virtue then people would aspire to that same kind of virtuous life, and further, would enjoy their days more fully in being governed justly.
Mencius emphasized the significance of the common citizens in the state. While Confucianism generally regards rulers highly, he argued that it is acceptable for the subjects to overthrow or even kill a ruler who ignores the people’s needs and rules harshly. This is because a ruler who does not rule justly is no longer a true ruler. Speaking of the overthrow of the wicked King Zhou of Shang, Mencius said, “I have merely heard of killing a villain Zhou, but I have not heard of murdering [him as] the ruler.” Below is an image of Mencius I took during my visit to the Mencius Temple in Zoucheng.
This saying should not be taken as an instigation to violence against authorities but as an application of Confucian philosophy to society. Confucianism requires a clarification of what may be reasonably expected in any given relationship. All relationships should be beneficial, but each has its own principle or inner logic. A King, or Ruler, must justify his position by acting benevolently before he can expect reciprocation from the people. In this view, a King is like a steward. Although Confucius admired Kings of great accomplishment, Mencius is clarifying the proper hierarchy of human society. Although a King has presumably higher status than a commoner, he is actually subordinate to the masses of people and the resources of society. Otherwise, there would be an implied disregard of the potential of human society heading into the future. A ruler (implied here is the emperor who rules as a mandate from Heaven) is significant that governs only for what one gives, not for what one takes.
Mencius was considered the “second sage” second only to Confucius mainly due to his promotion of Confucian study and teaching exemplified by the Academy of Nishon Hill south of Qufu that was adjacent to the cave in which Confucius was said to be born. His primary contribution was his development of Confucius’ ideological structure that would later be known as the Doctrines of Confucius and Mencius. His Policy of Benevolence and development of a system for ideological education would be followed for ways to rule the nation and has had a profound effect of Chinese society up until today. The picture below is of me sitting in the Academy at the Temple in Zoucheng. His own book Meng zi was regarded as required reading and essential for scholars who might by chosen by the government for a job and an essential element of the examination system that was to be put in place in early China.
In addition to Zeng Zi and Mencius would be Yan Hui from Qufu, who was Confucius favorite disciple. All three have temples built in their hometowns to honor their contributions to the development of Confucianism. I have visited all three in attempted to gain further understanding as to their influence on Chinese history. They became famous in Chinese history as three of the “four families”, the fourth being the descendants of Confucius. The Qufu Normal School where I taught and lived for three year (2011-13) was founded by the “four families” in the late 1800’s.
Recent entries here on face book have focused on Learning to create One’s Destiny, Moving Mountains, and Tranquil Abiding. How do we prepare ourselves in gaining a sense of inner peace? What does it mean to live a virtuous life in keeping with our innermost nature and the nature that surrounds us and how do we find ourselves in it?
Below is my own original version of The Book of Lieh Tzu entitled My Travels with Lieh Tzu….. Interpolations along the Way from the Introduction – Your Writing becomes You. (For more than two thousand years The Book of Lieh Tzu has offered a practical application to the understanding of how Confucianism and Taoism intertwined to consolidate Chinese culture and religion. An entry in the book Finding Confucius is something I wrote in March 1995 more than four years before going to Qufu in October 1999 for the first time).
Beginnings
It is said that each of us is granted two lives, the life we learn with and the life we live after that. To perchance awaken midstream in our lives, as if we have been reborn; given an opportunity to find and follow our true destiny and endeavor. That our ultimate task is not only to discover who we are but where we belong in history. Is not this the ultimate challenge? To simply rise up, traveling as one with the prevailing winds. Becoming one with the angels, or dragons, as they manifest before us. Letting our spirit soar. Freeing our mind, heart, and soul to go where few dare to wonder.
I know my task as a writer will be complete when my writing is as indefinable as my subject. Just as I know my task as an individual, as I exist in the here and now, will be to simply tell the stories that I have learned along the way. That we each have a story to tell. As we free ourselves of attachments and ego and baggage we have clung to as we try to find our way. That the ultimate travel is the travel of our spirit. That the ultimate giving is to share our gift with others.
To become one with the ages. To bring forth the stories, myths and legends that tell the way. To stay interested in life, as I am in reality here only for an instant before moving on.
My task only to look for constant renewal. Finally, true expression of self is in losing myself through expressing the voices of the past. That I am here to relay that the fears and hopes of humanity rest not in where we find ourselves in the here and now, but in reality, to find and reflect our inner nature waiting to be rediscovered and built upon again and again.
That all true learning is self-learning of who we ultimately are to become. That once we have awakened so that we can see beyond ourselves, then have not we found our spirits traveling the winds through eternity. This being so, could there be a more ultimate way of travel than to be found traveling with Lieh Tzu? 1/21/96
It is through eternity’s teachings we learn to travel as if creating a strand of pearls as if honing various hues, or colors of the winds in which we travel. We learn to paint with all the colors of the wind. We learn that everything is connected to everything else as we assist in creating a sustainable environment with common values as our virtue continually defines us. That just as with the shaman who taught us eons ago, nature is always our ultimate teacher. That just as in nature and the sun, growth occurs and is sustained by going towards the light… into a greater realm. Once ingrained, or infused, we ourselves act as if we are a healing energy and become the light that connects all with the universe.
The second entry here is when the world came tumbling down that defined who I thought I was earlier in 1994 after completing my first book about the I Ching that was to be published ten years later in China. The second entry found in the I Ching -Voices of the Shaman is as follows:
Remaining as the Tortoise
Maintain the thick skin of the tortoise. A hard outer shell impervious to unwanted intrusions. Stay to the one and only true path to understanding. The only real importance found along the Way that will take you further ever closer to your final destination. Slow and steady. Ever ready to retreat within the inner workings of the Tao.
Finding comfort. Retreating as the sage to mountaintops and vistas visited only by the chamois and nesting crane. Both forever up and out of harm’s way. In a haven of craggy outcroppings too precarious for predators who only look to advantage and tender morsels that both represent to the utmost.
The outer shell growing tougher as adversity is encountered and allowed to roll off one’s back as the danger at hand comes and goes. Finding comfort inside one’s protective shell. Keeping kicked around and badgered by those whose only advantage can be gained by putting an end to you.
Lessons to be learned with accomplishments kept simply to oneself. Moving all the while forward at an ever-moving standstill. Maintain the thick skin of the tortoise and simply keep plodding along to destinations unknown and unforeseen. Being sure to keep the wind at your back and a vision of final outcomes spread before you. 6/28/94
Here I am, more than twenty years later still traveling on the winds of change as Lieh Tzu, and the dragons taught me…
Increasing the vibrations of our Thoughts
According to Napoleon Hill the author of Think and grow Rich, the term ‘genius’ can be characterized simply by one’s ability to “increase the vibrations of thought to the point where one can freely communicate with sources of knowledge not available through the ordinary rate of vibration of thought”. He was not talking about financial gain, as much as, gaining spiritual insight. What can this mean except to embody both the human and divine.
That we are more than our human body and there can be no separation between us as humans – and the universe. With this we learn to care about another person as much as we care about ourselves. This is not simply a religious concept, as much as, an expression of how everything is interconnected with everything else. That we travel as if we acknowledge that we are ageless, and are in fact noble beings. It is this concept that leads us to philosophical and religious precepts and understanding of our relationship with others.
For Confucius 2500 years earlier, a similar teaching was that the key to “right relationships” were to be guided by virtue and benevolence. Together it is as if we are combining “Old Thought” from the East with “New Thought” from the West.
This understanding of our presence, our purpose, or place in the here and now – is as the ancient Chinese would say “that we are one with the ten thousand things” comes with the power to wake up to see that we are here to be replenished. To see beyond unrighteousness and return to our innate internal virtue.
That “values” are not one in the same with virtues. Over thousands of years in China, from pre-history forward, the role of the shaman, sage, even the shaman ruler has evolved into a certain pragmatism. That dynasties and those wishing to rule must eventually wake up to right thought. As if a speech of the mind, where thinking becomes aligned with right consciousness becomes universal.
Again, with the thought that having the right view will lead to the right action. Hill spent his entire life espousing this universal truth. As if knowing that we are all but pearls on a common thread. That common virtue leads to values that can be shared by all. That it is as if we are catching a wave, we attach our thoughts to these vibrations that carry us onward to our destiny. In the end, just as in the beginning, the ten thousand things simply all that exists under Heaven.
In China, the introduction of Buddhism during the Han dynasty and afterwards (200-600 AD) would provide the context for how this “right consciousness” would be put into practice with the existing concepts of shamanism, Taoism and Confucianism. An earlier post here on February 3rd, outlined the Big Wild Goose Pagoda and the introduction of Buddhist sutras (teachings) in Xian during this time. It would be the connection to Chuang Tzu and early Buddhist influence that would lead to the creation of Chan Buddhism in China and later Zen Buddhism in Japan.
It is in knowing the vibrations of our thoughts that we are led to the Four Noble Truths and Eight-Fold Path of Buddhism that ultimately show us the way. With this we learn that there is impermanence, that everything is fleeting or temporary, even life itself. Once known, we can begin our real life’s journey. That it is when we insist the world is something it is not that we suffer the consequences. That the end of suffering is possible when we stop clinging to our desires, learn that there is nothing to fear in death, and begin to see the world beyond ourselves.
We in effect begin by taking our spiritual medicine with having dominion over our thoughts.
Raising our consciousness incorporating this view in our association with like-minded people and becoming an example of right thought and action. I have found that most people want to do the right thing. Unfortunately, due to needless suffering, they become attached to their desires, cannot see beyond themselves and lose their way. This seeming truism is not necessarily easy to leave behind and is epitomized by a famous painting from 1000 AD called “The Vinegar Tasters”. It depicts Lao Tzu, Confucius, and the Buddha tasting from a vat of vinegar. One interpretation of the painting is that, since the three men are gathered around one vat of vinegar, the “three teachings” are one. More recent depictions include Jesus in the picture. While there are differences, their vibrations point to the same source and seeing beyond their own desires… beyond the stars into eternity.
Why and how do we become so attached to our thoughts when they sometimes don’t depict truth? How do we decide what defines us as an individual and know that we are all divine beings having a human experience? Why do we fear challenging what we believe are existing facts that have no basis of truth beyond our own limited perception? Where does truth lie?
Chuang Tzu was among the first to challenge existing morae’s that were espoused by the status quo as defined by Confucians more than two thousand years ago. Even more important why must we try to convince others that our beliefs are correct and theirs incorrect if they differ from us. What makes them wrong and us right? More importantly, why do we fear what we don’t understand and make little effort to do so? Contrary to Confucius, the Taoist would argue that there is no right or wrong…. Only our perception of both.
It is history and human interaction with what we perceive as the divine, or our definition of how we relate the the/our creator – God that gives us the answer. There really is nothing new under the sun. Only different people experiencing similar circumstances and what amounts to our comfort or distress we create for ourselves found in cause and effect.
Over the centuries, it has been our reliance on our dependence on philosophy and religion that guide us beyond these realities. But are they real? What is it in five thousand years of uninterrupted history in China that provides the answer?
What today we call “fake news” has been used for centuries to justify one set of beliefs and/or values over another and how one justifies their being superior by demeaning another view while expressing our own. Time though expresses eventual pragmatism.