I. MEDIUM FOR MEDITATION
“While Visiting the Taoist Priest Chang on South Brook”
Liu Changqing (Tang Dynasty)
Walking along a little path,
You see footprints on the moss,
White clouds lowering on the quiet bank,
An idle door overgrown with new grass,
A pine grown greener with passing showers,
A stream that flows from a mountain spring --
Mingling with Truth among the flowers,
Faced with all this, words don't mean a thing.
Cai Gen Tan (Vegetable Root Discourse)
by Hong Yingming (Ming Scholar)
Meditation
Keep control of yourself, as if you were Mount Tai,
then blame and fault may pass you by.
Blossoms bloom and fall in the stream, swept away,
Life is just like this, so enjoy today.
Meditation
Stand still, and observe all moving things,
don’t worry, just watch while other people hurry.
Only then may you know the joy transcendence brings.
When you’re busy, know how to feel at ease,
surrounded by clamour, learn to be still.
You may live a good, long life once you master this skill.
Meditation
Though the stream flows swiftly by,
the scene is forever still.
While flowers are rapidly wilting,
my mind remains at ease.
See the world this way,
and be free as you please.
Meditation
The music of pine trees in the woods,
the babbling of stream water over the rocks.
In stillness, everything we hear at all is truly Nature's call.
The haze that hovers above the grass,
the shadow of clouds upon the water --
to watch these things in leisure is to behold
the greatest story ever told.
The great Tang poet, Wang Wei, captured the meditative spirit of his garden this way:
“IN A RETREAT AMONG BAMBOOS”
Wang Wei (Tang Dynasty)
I sit alone in a bamboo grove,
strumming and humming tunes.
Deep in the woods, where no one knows,
here comes the bright full moon.
“SUMMER AT THE SOUTH PAVILION,
THINKING OF XIN DA”
Meng Haoran (Tang Dynasty)
Sunlight fails behind mountains in the west,
And east of the lake the moon rises slow.
I let my hair down to enjoy the evening cool,
Open my window, and peacefully lie low.
A breeze brings me lotus fragrance,
And bamboo-leaves drip with the music of dew....
I would like to take up my zythern and play,
But none here would understand, it seems,
And so I think of you, old friend,
Who visits me only in midnight dreams!
II. Designing Non-Design
The design of the classical Chinese garden is based upon the principle of subtle balance and compromise between Order and Chaos, hard and soft, straight and curved, wet and dry, light and dark, so that the interplay between them may be felt or seen from different vantage points, like Truth itself. To be frequently reminded of this is an aid to maintaining that inner balance which we call mental health. The ideal of aiming for contrast and balance, for a median position between extremes, has been proclaimed by many great thinkers East and West, ancient and modern.
As with people, so with the work of their hands. The Mustard Seed Manual, a handbook for painters, put it this way: "To be without methodology is deplorable, but to depend entirely on methodology is [even] worse. ...The end [or goal] of all methodology is to seem to have no method. ...if you aim to dispense with method, learn methods. If you aim at ease, work hard. If you aim at simplicity, first master complexity."(13) All of which is a typically metaphorical Chinese way of saying that the ideal should be balance, and though extremes may lie temptingly within reach, all effort should be directed at their avoidance.
At the same time, however, moderation must not be allowed to induce monotony, which is a constant danger when all extremes are avoided. To this end, the garden, like Nature herself, should be -- or should appear to be -- ever-changing: a place of interaction between light and shade, opening and closure, moisture and of dryness, of high and low, of hard and soft, of the extraordinary and the nondescript, of the squared and the rounded,
of Order and Chaos -- in a word, of the Yang and Yin.
III. WATERS
Waters, in the form of streams, lakes or ponds, are indispensable in the Chinese garden. If not actually present, they will be present symbolically, as in a riverbed of gravel, or a gravel pond. Waters are the source and sustenance of all life. Without a well and before the invention of tapwater from pipes, the river was the source of water for boiling tea, soup and rice. Thus its nearby presence was an ideal for convenient living as well as for philosophical contemplation. Like mountains, waters were nearly sacred objects of contemplation in Chinese Taoism: the mountain for its solemn stability and transcendance of the dusty affairs of earth; water for its non-assertive yielding as it follows the path of least resistance -- and carves through stone. Water, to the Taoist, is not only the Source of life; it is the Way of life, the perfect model of effortless achievement (wu wei er wei):
The greatest people and the highest good
Are both like water,
Nurturing everything, contending with nothing;
Dwelling in the humble and lowly places.
Nothing beneath the Heavens is more gentle and yielding than Water
Yet it is unsurpassed in overcoming the strong and the hard.
--Lao-tzu, 6th century BC/Tao Te Ching
IV. “Ode to the BLOSSOMING PLUM TREE in the Snow”
Yin Geng (mid-6th Century)
When winter lingers near to coming spring,
The snow still flies as plum trees start to bloom.
Winds howl, and petals fall with the snow
But they will never melt in the warming sun.
Leaves unfold and footprints lead to them,
Blossoms multiply, bending branches down.
Today’s are not the same as yesterday’s,
And they’re even lovelier at dusk than they were at dawn.
V. THE PINE
“One of Three Poems Sent to a Cousin”
Liu Zhen (2nd-3rd Centuries A.D.)
The pine stands straight and tall on the mountain top,
The wind soughs sharp cold through the valley.
Yet no matter how the winds may howl
The limbs of the pine stay strong.
Winds and frost may be desolate and cruel
But it survives the seasons constant and upright.
Even when tormented by a frozen winter scene
It stands unchanged, forever green.
VI. Ode to the BAMBOO by the Pond
Yin Keng (mid-6th Century)
A patch of bamboo crowded by the pond
Hangs emerald green, unafraid of cold.
Leaves they brew into fine tasting wine,
Skins they weave into a Magistrate’s cap.
Spotted riverside bamboo are stained with farewell tears,
High in mountaintop temples, they sweep immortal altars.
They really brave the chill, but you won’t know
Until you see them blooming in the snow.
VII. THE CARP
A twisting bridge is likely to connect two paths over an expanse of water. It is twisted to give a sense of greater distance and variety, and to encourage the viewer to appreciate a greater number of perspectives on the garden's beauty. Looking down at the water, one will probably notice some carp swimming around, and the meditating Chinese stroller will be reminded of the subjective nature of human consciousness. Why? Because he/she will recall another famous passage from Zhuang Zi.:
Zhuang Zi and Hui Zi were strolling along
the dam of the Hao River when Zhuang Zi said,
"See how the minnows come out and dart around
where they please! That's what fish really
enjoy!"
Hui zi said, "You're not a fish -- how do
you know what fish enjoy?"
Zhuang Zi said, "You're not I, so how do
you know I don't know what fish enjoy?"
Hui Zi said, "I'm not you, so I certainly
don't know what you know. On the other hand,
you're certainly not a fish -- so that still
proves you don't know what fish enjoy!"
Zhuang Zi said, "Let's go back to your
original question, please. You asked me how
I know what fish enjoy -- so you already knew
I knew it when you asked the question. I
know it by standing here beside the Hao."(11)
Modern research, by the way, seems to indicate that watching fish can actually lower blood pressure, but then it may be counter productive to get embroiled in a heated debate over what is happiness to a fish.
“ON SETTING A FISH FREE“
by Wang Anshi (Song Dynasty)
I caught a fish in the shallows of a stream
And tossed him back into the deepest part.
Having beat the heat of cooking fires,
Gracefully, he swam away.
Not that we have no good cook
To turn him into a gourmet dish,
But all of us dread suffering, and so
I'll dine on vegetables and let him go.
VIII. THE LOTUS
One of the most famous essays ever written in Chinese, and practically memorized by every student for several centuries, is entitled “For Love of the Lotus,” written in the 11th century by Zhou Dun-yi:
There are many adorable blossoms among all the plants and all the trees that grow in water and on land. During the Jin Dynasty, Tao Yuanming adored the chrysanthemum; since the Tang, most people have worshipped the peony. I, on the other hand, love the lotus: It emerges unstained from the dirty mud, bathes unseductively in rippling waters; hollow inside and straight in outward appearance, it never overextends, never branches out; the farther away, the finer its fragrance; straight and tall, it stands and stays pure -- it may be appreciated from a distance, yet is not intimidated by familiarity. I see it this way: the chrysanthemum is the hermit of flowers; the peony is the wealthy noble; and the lotus is the most well-bred. Ah, the adoration of chrysanthemums is unheard of since Tao’s time; and who would want to join me in my love of the lotus? The masses seem to be in tune with peonies.
SUMMARY
In looking for a more scientific basis for the principles described in this paper, I came across abundant evidence in the writings of natural scientests. K.C. Cole writes, in Sympathetic Vibrations: Reflections on Physics as a Way of Life:
"Complementary ideas are opposing ideas that add up
to much more than the sum of their parts. They
complement each other like night and day, male and
female, ‘on the one hand' and ‘on the other hand.'
Complements are required for a full spectrum of
understanding.... Complements are the yin and yang
of science" (p16).
The complementarity she refers to is the structural key to understanding the design and function of the Chinese garden, for only through observing their interplay regularly are we reminded that the good life consists in maintaining the balance that avoids disruptive extremities. There are dozens of other aspects of reality (the dynamic interplay of principles, forms and values) encompassed, revealed and concealed in the design of the Chinese garden, achieved through twists and turns, walls and halls, gateways and windows, islands and bridges, pagodas and studios, and so on. Considering only the six elements highlighted here, we are reminded of some of the most important aspects of a long, successful and virtuous life:
Emerge from the muck around you as pure as the lotus;
Grow and bend without breaking, like the bamboo;
Be steadfast through adversity, like the ever green pine;
Live wisely on the margins of society, like the chrysanthemum;
Like the blossoming plum in winter,
always embody the hope of regeneration;
And be reminded by the grotesque stone,
that chaos and order are essential aspects of each other.