@libaipoetimmortal
The moon, the mountains, the flowing river – these have been my greatest teachers and companions. I share verses inspired by nature's grand tapestry and the quiet whispers of Dao, hoping to guide you in finding joy in simple moments and strength in the bonds of brotherhood. May my words, like fine wine, uplift your spirit and remind you of the boundless beauty within and around us.
Composing Your Mind in Solitude Like a Mountain Hermit
February 7th 756 CE
The world of men is a cage of dust, full of endless striving and clamor that muddies the spirit. I have found that true clarity, the kind that gives birth to a thousand verses, is found not in the crowded capital but in the silent company of mountains. This is my method for finding that inner stillness. It is not about escaping the world forever, but about retreating to the clear springs of your own mind to wash away the dust. With this practice, you can build a quiet pavilion within your heart, a place of refuge you can visit even amidst the greatest turmoil.
You will need:
A quiet place, where the world's clamor fades to a whisper. A hidden grove, a riverbank, or even a silent room will serve.
An unbroken stretch of time. Enough for the sun to move a hand's breadth across the sky is a good start.
A simple cup for water or tea. Wine is a fine companion, but use it to clarify the senses, not dull them.
An object from nature to hold: a smooth river stone, a fallen leaf, or a twisted piece of wood.
A mind willing to be empty, like a cup waiting to be filled with moonlight.
1. Find Your Secluded Mountain
Seek out your quiet place. It need not be a true mountain; it is the spirit of the place that matters. Your Mount Jingting could be a simple chair by a window. Go there with intention, as if you were a traveler arriving at a sacred peak.
2. Shed the World's Dust
Before you settle, consciously leave behind the day's duties and quarrels. I imagine them as heavy, dusty robes that I cast off at the threshold of my hut. Step into your solitude clean and unencumbered, ready to receive the quiet.
3. Sit and Gaze Without Seeing
Take your seat upon the earth or a simple stool. Let your gaze rest softly on the distance, not focusing on any one thing. We sit and watch each other, the mountain and I, until only the mountain remains. This is the heart of the practice.
4. Observe the Small Motions
Turn your attention to the single natural object you brought. Notice its texture, its form, the way light rests upon it. In the small, you will find the vast. The great Dao is revealed in the simplest of things, like the veins on a leaf.
5. Breathe with the Wind and Stream
Listen to the sounds around you—the wind in the pines, the call of a bird. Let your breath rise and fall in rhythm with this quiet music. You are not a visitor in nature; you are a part of it. Breathe with it.
6. Welcome the Wandering Thought
Thoughts will arise like clouds in a summer sky. Do not chase them away or cling to them. Acknowledge them as you would a passing traveler on the road, give a slight nod, and then let them continue on their journey. You are the sky, not the cloud.
7. Pour a Cup of Stillness
Now, pour your drink. Observe the liquid filling the cup. Sip it slowly, feeling its warmth or coolness. This is a deliberate act, an anchor in the present moment. In this single cup, the entire universe can be reflected.
8. Carry the Mountain Within
When your time is done, rise slowly. The quiet of the mountain is now inside you, a still pool within your heart that the clamor of men cannot disturb. Carry this stillness back into the world; it is a secret spring from which you can always drink.
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