Empty Valley Orchid: A Visit to Contemporary Chinese Hermits (Part 6)

 Hermits are one of China's best-kept secrets, symbolizing many of the country's most mysterious aspects. For some, the path of cultivation means a life of solitude; for others, it means a career in politics. However, in any case, they are sources of 'pure thought' and 'pure living,' which will eventually find suitable channels to flow into the human world. 

 Although the hermit tradition is an indispensable part of Chinese society, it was not until the end of the third century AD that Chinese officials began to make efforts to publicize the contributions of hermits. There is a chapter in the 'Book of Later Han' dedicated to hermits, which begins as follows: 

 Some隐居 to pursue their aspirations, some evade indirectly to preserve their way, some remain still to calm their restlessness, some depart from danger to seek safety, some reject the vulgar to inspire integrity, some criticize things to stimulate clarity. 

 The author continues to explain that, apart from these individual differences, all people share a common, unchanging goal, which is the cultivation of the Dao. To them, the Dao leads beyond the mundane world. Although Confucius agreed that 'the Dao is no longer practiced,' he remained in the mundane world because he believed that as a person who reveres the Dao, it was his responsibility to persuade those in power to 'govern with virtue.' Those who govern with virtue are like the North Star, around whom the world rotates harmoniously ('As for the North Star, it remains in its place, and all the stars revolve around it'). 

 Not everyone is so optimistic. Jieyu, the Madman of Chu, feigned madness to avoid the world and protect himself. He once walked past Confucius and sang:

 O Phoenix! O Phoenix!

 How has your virtue declined?

 The past cannot be admonished,

 The future may still be pursued.

 Alas! Alas!

 Those who govern today are in danger!

 —— 'The Analects,' Chapter 18

 For some, the path of cultivation means a life of solitude, while for others, it means a career in politics. Regardless of what choice a specific individual might make, the debate between these two choices has been endless throughout Chinese history. In the 'Chu Ci,' the poem 'The Fisherman' continues this debate:

 Qu Yuan, having been exiled,

 wandered by the river and marshes,

 chanting along the banks,

 his face haggard,

 his figure emaciated.

 The fisherman saw him and asked:

 'Are you not the Third Lord of the Qu clan?

 Why have you come to this place?'

 Qu Yuan replied:

 'The whole world is muddy, I alone am clear;

 everyone is drunk, I alone am sober;

 therefore I have been exiled.'

 The fisherman said:

 'The sage is not stuck on things,

 but can move with the times.

 If the world is muddy,

 why not stir the mud and raise the waves?

 If everyone is drunk,

 why not drink the dregs and sip the wine?

 Why think deeply and act loftily,

 and bring about your own exile?'

 Qu Yuan replied:

 'I have heard:

 One who has just washed his hair must brush his cap,

 one who has just bathed must shake his clothes.

 How can one, with a clean body,

 accept the filth of the world?

 I would rather throw myself into the Xiang River,

 and be buried in the bellies of the river fish,

 than let my purity

 be covered by the dust of the secular world.'

 The fisherman smiled and laughed,

 and rowed away.

 Then he sang:

 'When the waters of Canglang are clear,

 they can wash my hat strings;

 when the waters of Canglang are muddy,

 they can wash my feet.'

 He then left,

 never speaking to him again.

 Qu Yuan was China's first great poet. He was also a shaman. Around 300 BC, he served in the court of Chu in this capacity. Near Chu flowed the Canglang River. Due to criticizing the faults of the King of Chu and being slandered by colleagues, Qu Yuan was exiled to the swampy areas on the south bank of the Yangtze River. It was there, while he was walking along the bank of the Xiang River, that the fisherman met him. Disappointed with the incompetence of the King of Chu and unable to continue in politics, his future was obvious. In 'Li Sao,' he wrote:

 How can hearts that are divided be united?

 I will go far away to distance myself.

 Turning my path toward Kunlun,

 the road is long and I travel around.

 But Qu Yuan did not become a hermit. He never reached Kunlun—the area around Zhongnan Mountain. He rejected the fisherman's advice and jumped into the Miluo River, east of where it flows into the Xiang River.