Ge Xuan’s Inverted Cycle of Breath and the Pearl

Le Professeur

The 24 Stages of Neidan

Xiàzhì 夏至 — Summer Solstice

The Summit of Yáng and the Celestial Axis
At the zenith of the skull, the sunlight strikes the Bǎihuì point. This is the Palace of Mud, the Níwángōng, the upper pole of man, where the Shén dwells motionless like a sacred pine on the northern mountain. The Yīn spirit condenses in the light to guide the subtle current of the living body.

When the sun reaches the horn of Heaven,
the skull becomes a jade drum.
Up there, the spirit speaks no more:
it listens to the invisible step of the Dao.

The inner shaman raises his eyes without looking.
A white crane crosses the palace of the brain.
The fire is at its peak,
but already the shadow prepares its return.

Xiǎoshǔ 小暑 — Minor Heat

The Dew of the Upper Palace
Fire threatens to set the upper channels and the throat tower ablaze. The sage presses his tongue to the palate to build the bridge, the Dāqiáo, connecting the hidden waters to the celestial flames. The secret saliva of the Tiānchí, the Celestial Basin, descends to moisten the anterior channel.

Beneath the vault of the mouth,
a spring unseen by any stranger
lets its first drop fall
into the valley of the burning heart.

The tongue becomes an ancient serpent,
a bridge of flesh between heaven and earth.
The dew descends without a sound,
and fire learns the gentleness of water.

Dàshǔ 大暑 — Great Heat

The Lowering of the Furnace
The ardour of the heart is at its peak. Intention, the Yì, applies the strategy of descent. The Yáng of summer is led downwards to meet the Yīn of water. Fire descends and submits to the guidance of the general of wisdom.

The heart roars like a red horse,
but the master does not pull the reins.
He merely lowers the lantern,
and the beast finds its way back to the well.

In the belly, black water waits.
It does not fight the flame:
it welcomes it, envelops it,
and gives it a home.

Lìqiū 立秋 — Start of Autumn

The Withdrawal of the Sensory Gates
The air grows cooler. The inner landscape of the Nèijīng Tú begins to condense. The sage closes the doors of the senses: sight withdraws, hearing turns inwards, according to the method of Shǒushì Fǎntīng. The Wèiqì, the Guardian Qi, abandons the surface to lie in wait within.

The eyes close,
but another lamp is lit.
The ears cease to listen to the world,
and hear the cavern breathe.

The tiger leaves the confines of the skin.
It returns to the mountain of the chest.
The village gates are closed,
for autumn summons the ancestors.

Chǔshǔ 處暑 — End of Heat

The Correct Way of the Wind
To dispel stagnant fire, the natural flow is temporarily altered. The breath rises through the Conception Vessel and descends through the spinal marrow. The reversed breath cools the cauldron and purifies the central axis.

An ancient wind turns in reverse
in the secret passage of the trunk.
What rose descends once more,
what burned becomes clear.

The back becomes a dark river,
the chest becomes a valley of mist.
The sage does not force the current:
he persuades the wind through silence.

Báilù 白露 — White Dew

The Infiltration of the Stone
White dew condenses at the centre of the skeleton. Through reverse abdominal breathing, the Qi crosses the barrier of the periosteum. The marrow is imbued with this purifying fluid and the depths of the blood receive a new clarity.

A white drop falls into the bone.
The stone drinks.
The marrow, long dormant,
remembers the primordial moon.

In the cavern of the vertebrae,
the spirits of the bones beat their drums.
No sound emerges from the body,
yet the entire interior becomes rain.

Qiūfēn 秋分 — Autumnal Equinox

Intercourse in the Sacred Palace
The water of the Dāntián and the fire of the heart meet at the exact centre of the ellipse. In the secret palace of Huángtíng, the tiger and the dragon consummate their union. Kǎn and Lí intertwine. From this sacred copulation is conceived the Spiritual Embryo, the Língtāi.

The green dragon descends without pride,
the white tiger ascends without anger.
In the midst of the yellow palace,
their breaths exchange their names.

Then a colourless pearl is born,
neither red, nor black, nor white.
It rests in the void of the centre,
like a child before its first cry.

Hánlù 寒露 — Cold Dew

The Fixation of Singularity
The cold intensifies. The sage applies the absolute rule of fixed attention. The mind must not wander towards the four limbs, lest it disperse the elixir. The Shén anchors itself at the centre of gravity, immutable, guardian of the One.

The dew grows cold upon the inner grasses.
Every thought that strays
is a spark lost
in the wind of the ten directions.

The sage binds his mind
not with chains, but with presence.
At the centre, a motionless star
commands the wolves of the night.

Shuāngjiàng 霜降 — Descent of the Frost

The Union of Mother and Son
The frost hardens the ground. The Shén leaves the heights of the brain and descends to shut itself away in the furnace of the belly to unite with the breath. This is the embrace of the One, the Bàoyī, where the son dissolves into the mother.

The son of light leaves the celestial tower.
He descends without a crown
towards the dark womb
where the mother of breaths awaits him.

The frost seals the outer paths.
No desire crosses the gates.
In the covered cauldron,
the One draws close to itself.

Lìdōng 立冬 — Start of Winter

The Locking of the Earth
Nature enters the great secret repose. The sage gently suspends the earthen gate, Huìyīn, and closes the lower sluice to prevent the slightest influx from escaping. That which was scattered returns to the root.

The earth places a black seal
upon the mouths of the springs.
Snakes sleep beneath the stones,
and the breath returns to its name.

The shaman sits by the closed well.
He asks nothing of the spirits.
He merely tends the embers,
as one tends the last ancestor.

Xiǎoxuě 小雪 — Light Snow

The Awakening of the Shadow
Snow covers the material world. The conscious mind falls silent. In the body’s perfect stillness, the subconscious awakens to true life. The accumulated Qi rests within the immobile structure of the deep tissues.

Fine snow falls upon thoughts.
Every sound grows distant.
Beneath the white silence,
the shadow opens an animal’s eye.

That which lay hidden in the tendons
stirs like a dragon beneath the ice.
The body seems motionless,
yet the caverns are at work.

Dàxuě 大雪 — Great Snow

The Breath of the Roots
The sage breathes through the earth, imitating the breath of the ancient immortals. Intention draws the Earth’s Qi through the gates of the soles, the Yǒngquán. Energy rises through the three Yīn channels of the legs to fill the cauldron.

The feet become two dark mouths.
They drink the mineral night,
the cold milk of the mountains,
the memory of buried bones.

The great snow erases the tracks.
Only the root remains.
Through it rises an ancient breath,
slower than the blood of stones.

Dōngzhì 冬至 — Winter Solstice

The Trembling of the Spark
Deep within the winter darkness, the first movement of Yáng begins. The embryo quivers in the inner void. The vital current stirs at the centre of the deep belly. It is the awakening of the primordial pearl within the furnace.

When night ascends to its throne,
a spark is born beneath the ashes.
It is small as an ant’s egg,
yet the stars recognise it.

In the belly, the pearl turns.
It does not yet shine,
but the Dao has already breathed
upon its invisible shell.

Xiǎohán 小寒 — Minor Cold

The Nourishment of Translucidity
The young Shén is nourished by the pure water Qi of the inner furnace. Isolated from the clamour of the world, he grows sheltered within the Penetrating Vessel. The inner vision, Nèishì, is refined, without shadow or blemish.

The cold polishes the inner lamp.
What was cloudy becomes glass.
The child of light drinks the black water
and retains only its transparency.

The gaze turns back into the cavern.
He sees without eyes,
hears without ears,
and walks without leaving the centre.

Dàhán 大寒 — Great Cold

The Education of Clarity
The Shén becomes accustomed to its own energetic density within the Palace of Mud. It detaches itself from earthly desires and becomes pure as the white lotus. The sage stabilises the spirit of vitality in the face of absolute emptiness.

The great cold teaches without words.
It strips the branch,
empties the cup,
and makes the heart like the sky before dawn.

In the Palace of Mud,
the lotus grows without visible water.
Its roots plunge into nothingness,
its flower gazes upon the Origin.

Lìchūn 立春 — Beginning of Spring

The Rectification of Form
The first breath of spring awakens the physical structure. The back stands tall like a pine tree, the head hangs down to align the central axis. Relaxation settles from the skin down to the internal organs.

Spring does not come from outside.
It rises first in the lower back,
then straightens the spine
like a tree drawn upwards by the stars.

The flesh remembers its original form.
The shoulders drop,
the nape opens,
and the body becomes an altar.

Yǔshuǐ 雨水 — Rainwater

The Thread-like Breath
The breath becomes imperceptible, as thin as a silk thread. The external air and the internal fluid harmonise without friction or sound. The turmoil of the emotional mind subsides before the silent rigour of intention.

The fine rain passes through the reeds.
So the breath passes through the body,
without breaking the leaf,
without disturbing the water in the pond.

The silk thread emerges from the void.
The finer it is, the stronger it is.
The mind ceases to command,
and the rain knows its way.

Jīngzhé 驚蟄 — Awakening of Insects

The Trembling of the Furnace
Internal thunder bursts forth beneath the navel. Through the subtle interplay of the deep muscles, the layers of fascia rub against one another. The vital spark bursts forth from the muscular sandwich. The furnace blazes.

Beneath the earth of the belly,
the lightning insects awaken.
A drum beats without a hand,
and the cauldron answers.

The fire does not come from the sky,
but from the friction of hidden worlds.
Flesh against breath, breath against void:
the first ember appears.

Chūnfēn 春分 — Spring Equinox

The Equal Division of Breath
Yin and Yang reach perfect quantitative equality. Inhalation and exhalation merge into a single measure of time. The vertical axis and the horizontal circle of the Belt Vessel balance each other.

Day and night gaze at one another
with neither victor nor vanquished.
The scales of breath suspend
their two pans within the heart.

The axis descends, the circle opens.
The body becomes wheel and pillar.
In the midst of it all, the sage does not choose:
he allows opposites to yield.

Qīngmíng 清明 — Pure Clarity

The Calm of the Wood Palace
Light diffuses into the Liver and purifies it of all irritation. The inner gaze turns inwards, preventing energy from escaping through the eyes. The Original Essence purifies itself at the centre of the vessel.

In the Palace of Wood,
the winds of anger subside.
The leaves cease to tremble,
and the dragon sleeps beneath the bark.

The eyes, once arrows of desire,
become two closed doors.
The light no longer flows outwards:
it washes the root.

Gǔyǔ 穀雨 — Grain Rain

The Extension of the Shield
The accumulated Qi overflows from the main rivers into the small surface channels. On exhalation, the energy flows out horizontally to strengthen the aura. The protective shield, the Wèiqì, envelops the body in invisible armour.

The rain nourishes the hidden grains.
Every pore becomes a damp field,
every hair a blade of grass,
every breath an offering.

Around the body, the armour is woven.
Not of iron, but of mist.
Wandering spirits pass close to the sage
and find no opening.

Lìxià 立夏 — Start of Summer

Crossing the First Barrier
The summer Yáng surges to assault the spine. The accumulated breath forces its way through the narrow passage of the coccyx, the Wěilǘ. The vital current crosses the first perilous gate under the governance of Yì.

At the base of the spine,
a stone bolt guards the serpent.
The sage does not attack the gate:
he warms the key in silence.

When the passage yields,
the breath rises like blue smoke.
The coccyx becomes a mountain threshold,
and summer enters the spine.

Xiǎomǎn 小滿 — Minor Fullness
The Swelling of the Fascia
Qi fills the deep fasciae situated between the bones and muscles. The internal structure swells like a leather ball under pressure. The twelve meridians receive the overflow from the full reservoirs.

Fullness is not yet excess.
It is a jar almost full,
a taut drumhead,
a heavy cloud before the rain.

Between bone and flesh,
forgotten paths open up.
The body becomes dragon skin,
supple, dense, charged with storm.

Mángzhòng 芒種 — Grain in Ear
The Harvest of Purity
The sage reaps the fruits of mental neutrality by pruning the heart’s desires. Fire descends from the sternum so as not to burn the internal structures. Calm settles at the junction of the diaphragm, ready for the return to the great Solstice.

The grains bear their golden beards.
One must harvest without greed,
cut desire at its stem,
leave the root to the Dao.

Beneath the diaphragm,
the fire accepts its lowly dwelling.
The heart ceases to shoot arrows,
and summer prepares for its crowning.