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A Chinese Garden
Drinking tea aids the digestion, especially when sipped in the company of sweet and beautiful maidens in a pavilion by a water-lily pond, or near a laquered bridge.
-Luk Yu, Master of Tea during the Tang dynasty
-From A Chinese Garden of Serenity-
A taste derived from tranquility and ease is dilute, but lasts longer.
Human affairs are like a chess game: only those who do not take it seriously can be called good players. Life is like an earthen pot: only when it is shattered does it manifest its emptiness.
A pigeon, when annoyed by the bells on its neck, will fly higher and higher, but it does not know that to fold its wings will stop the tinkling of the bells. A man, when irked by his shadow, may run faster and faster, but he does not understand that to stay in a shady place will eliminate his shadow. So the foolish people who run fast and fly high find a smooth ground to be a sea of suffering, whereas people of insight who stay in the shade and fold their wings discover a craggy slope to be a level road.
Fishing is a pleasure of retirement, yet the angler has the power to let the fish live or die. Chess-playing is an enjoyable pastime, yet the players are motivated by the idea of war.
When a man contends for supremacy, he contends like the sparks flashed between two stones. How long can these sparks last? When he fights for victory, he fights in the horn of a snail. How large a world is that horn?
The attitude of people towards me may be warm or cold, but I respond neither gladly nor resentfully; the tastes of the world may be savory or insipid, but I react neither happily nor disgustedly. If one does not fall into the trap of the mundane, one knows the ways of living in, and escaping from, the world.
To boast of fame is not such a pleasure as to avoid it; to be versed in wordly affairs does not bring such leisure as to be unconcerned with them. Lo, a lone cloud idling across a mountain peak does not care whether it stays there or passes on; while the bright moon hanging in the firmament is indifferent as to whether the world is silent or noisy.
To get rid of scoundrels and sycophants one must leave them an outlet. If they are denied even a foothold, it is like closing the ways of escape at rat-holes so that rats must gnaw all the good things inside.
When the mind is possessed of Reality, it feels tranquil and joyous even without music or song, and it produces a pure fragrance even without incense or tea.
When a man of insight appreciates the music of a lyre, calligraphy, poetry, or painting, he nurtures his mind with them; but a worldly man delights only in their physical appeals. When a noble-minded man appreciates mountains, rivers, clouds, or other natural objects, he develops his wisdom with them; but a vulgar man finds pleasure only in their apparent splendor. So we know that things have no fixed attribute. Whether they are noble or ignoble depends on one's understanding.
Mountains and forests are scenes of wonder. Once they are frequented by people, they are debased into market-places. Calligraphy and paintings are things of beauty. Once they are craved by people, they are degraded into merchandise.
