Or Immortality

Light three sticks of incense.

The first is for the light in my heart.

In Daoism, this light is called primordial yang. It is the source of creation, the Heavenly Venerable of Primordial Beginning. In Buddhism, it is called the luminous nature of the self. It transcends time and is thus immeasurable life; it also transcends space and is thus immeasurable light. The Sanskrit name for immeasurable light and life is rendered in three Chinese characters: Amitabha.

The second is for the righteousness in my nature.

Primordial yang is pure and sacred, but it is the Way of Heaven, and without tempering, it cannot be put to human use. How is it tempered? Daoism says, with thunder. Not the lightning in the sky, but the roar against injustice in the world, stirred by righteousness within. Confucianism calls this righteousness the noble spirit: “In people it is called noble; it fills the vast heavens.” Forged in thunder and fire, and tempered through unyielding struggle, the light in my heart is refined in the mortal world. This is the Heavenly Venerable of Numinous Treasure. Refining people is like refining elixirs; in Buddhism, this is the Medicine Buddha of Lapis Lazuli Light.

The third is for the pure yang of my virtue.

If primordial yang is like a novice setting out with the wish to save the world, then by now he has matured amid the dangers of worldly affairs. He has become a wise elder, able to burn like a candle in the dark, driving away the shadows and teaching truth to all living things. This is the Supreme Venerable Lord Lao, the Heavenly Venerable of the Way and Its Virtue, or perhaps the Lord of the Saha World, Shakyamuni.

When the three sticks of incense are set down, ten thousand ways are born.

Yet not one stick is offered to ghosts or gods, and not one method is sought from outside. Whether bowing or prostrating, what is revered is the pure embodiment of the beautiful virtues inherently present in every sentient being under heaven.

“The Way of the sages is complete within my own nature; I need not seek it outside.”

“The sword rises, a meteor streaking ten thousand miles to slay; wind and thunder follow, and rain falls in torrents. The heads I carry are no longer human; why then do I sing aloud as I pass across the Five Lakes?”