Some say that mortals knocking at the gates of immortality are like ants trying to shake a mountain, and that a three-inch dantian could never withstand the thunder tribulations of the highest heavens. Others say that the countless bones littering the stairway to heaven prove the ruthlessness of the Heavenly Dao, while the flickering lights of soul-dispersing lamps hold nothing but deluded ashes. Yet they do not know that the sword that severs karma was forged in the furnace of the mortal world. Even the palm that shattered the void still bears the warmth of everyday life, of firewood, rice, oil, and salt. The cultivators here have swallowed wind and sipped dew for three thousand years, yet one night, when frost covers their hair, they will finally taste the lingering sweetness of a single grain of ordinary millet, born from the smoke of a kitchen fire. The Mortal’s Path to Immortality: Finding the Profound in Everyday Life
