How can you find meditative quiet in a busy city? The Taoist poet T’ao Ch’ien (365 – 427 C.E.) knows.
\nThere is a whole genre of Taoist drinking poems — a topic for anothe day.<\/p>\n
I built my hut beside a busy road Picking chrysanthemums by the eastern hedge (photo by Jon Sullivan)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" How can you find meditative quiet in a busy city? The Taoist poet T’ao Ch’ien<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1077,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[49],"tags":[193,430,163,426,427,429,70,71,428,431,52,425],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1074"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1074"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1074\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1078,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1074\/revisions\/1078"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1077"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1074"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1074"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.realchange.org\/taoish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1074"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nYet I hear no noise of passing carts and horses.
\nYou ask me how this is possible. Well,
\nWhen the mind is detached, one’s place is remote.<\/p>\n
\nI catch sight of the distant southern hills.
\nThe mountain air is lovely as the sun sets,
\nand flocks of birds fly home together.
\nIn these things, there is a fundamental truth.
\nI want to explain it, but there are no words.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n