Death of a Chinese sage

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China: Death of a master

 

Leading Chinese blogger De Day reported the death of Master Nan Huai-Chin in September. Until now, I had never heard of Nan, though he has a following among Western Budhhists.

 

De Day's post (oddly, his last) lists Nan's many writings, most of which have never been translated into English. Yet Nan's school, founded in 2006 when Nan was 89 years old, is influential in both academic and business circles.

 

His scholarship is a fusion of traditions (Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism) and offers a balance of spiritual and practical, which is why he is revered in China, a country that is struggling to develop materially without losing its soul. 

 

The blogger comments:

 

大师认为人生的最高境界是佛为心，道为骨，儒为表，大度看世界。技在手，能在身，思在脑，从容过生活。

 

- which Google Translate renders as: *

 

"Gurus believe that the highest state of life to Buddhism for the heart, said as bone, Confucianism for the table, and generosity to see the world. Technology in hand, in the body, thinking brain, calm lived."

 

The English is a little fractured but it is wonderful that we can read Chinese at all, thanks to this program. When the peoples of the world can talk to each other directly, we may find peace easier to achieve.

 

By the way, the billion-plus figure at the bottom left of the picture above is the number of hits on De's blog.

 

UPDATE

 

* I am deeply obliged to commenter Qingyun for the following elegant translation:

 

"Buddha's teachings as one's heart,

Taoist teachings as one's bones,
Confucius' teachings as one's countenance,
Gives one a broad worldview.

Skills in one's hands,
Ability in one's body,
Thoughtfulness in one's mind,
Allows one to live at one's pace."

Transhumance

Writing about moving South for the winter, CIngrams makes a passing reference to transhumance, and that sets me off on another few minutes' happy diversion through byways on the Internet. I'd known about seasonal movement of herds in the Swiss Alps, but not the ancient and widespread trails through Spain that were followed well into the twentieth century. CIngrams comments, "Now it has gone for good, and good riddance. It was a very tough way to live, but seen from a distance, there is romance and beauty in it."

I wonder whether much of the fidgety irritation of comment and protest on the Internet is related to the cellular instinct in us to roam as our ancestors did. From the Great Rift Valley we wandered out and along the riverbanks and coastlines of the world, reaching Australia maybe 50,000 years ago. We must have eaten a lot of oysters on the way.

Even now, that restlessness is in the bones of bikers like Richard and Longrider. I have it, too - wanting to change house, job, get to know new people, start new projects. In a way, the nomadism hasn't gone, after all.

Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content, whether incorporated in or linked to this blog; or for unintentional error and inaccuracy. The blog author may have, or intend to change, a personal position in any stock or other kind of investment mentioned.

Spain: Crispulito the hedgehog

From the Spain-based Sounds In The Hickory Wind:

Hedgehog Fetishism Revisited

My spiny co-blogger is a creature of strange habits. I have previously accused him of having an underwear fetish as he will run off with any bit of used clothing that happens to get left on the floor. They used to end up in one of his nests, which is why I assumed he liked being surrounded by the smell of human intimacy. But I may have misjudged him (slightly).

I now wonder if he just likes playing with things that smell like us, and he left them in his bed partly for warmth and partly to be sure he could find them again. But now that the heat is really beginning (it's 90º and we're only in spring) and he's been with us long enough to know his way around and to treat us as no more than a harmless, and sometimes useful, inconvenience, he just leaves them lying around when he's finished playing.

Because playing it is. In the summer he keeps them in his bed, too, but in summer we're in the mountains and it cools down rapidly once the sun goes down. But now, the days are hot and the nights are sweaty and he doesn't need a blanket. So he plays with underwear, and socks.

He pushes them with his snout, unable to see where he's going, following the sock as it veers left and right, until it gets caught on something or hits a wall. Then he stops, evaluates the situation, changes its position with his teeth, and goes off again, running behind it until it gets away from him again. He can do this for long periods. Then he will suddenly tire, leave the sock where it is, and go off to eat, drink, or run round in circles, something else he is very fond of.

He used to have a larger circuit, involving several rooms each with more than one door, so he could arrive back where he started and go round again. The region thus created was not simply connected, and I assumed that was part of the fun. However, he has recently taken to running round in much smaller circles, of two or three feet, beside the bed, and he does it so quickly that he often loses his rear legs on the polished wooden floor like a F1 car taking the chicane late in a race. Quite why he finds this entertaining I couldn't say, though I do have a theory.

The problem, I suspect, is that, like all animals, he has hormones, instincts, sap, urges, an understanding of the phases of the moon etc, but he doesn't know that there is such a thing as a hedgesow. If he ever met one I can imagine his face clearing and his shoulders untensing as a lot of things suddenly fell into place. As it is, he is forced to expend his energies and seek an explanation of his inner feelings in forms of play.

Yes, Crispulito is a geek, a Trekkie, obsessed with the details of objectively pointless pastimes because he can't "pull".

Copyright. Reproduced with the kind permission of the author, who says of himself and his friend:

"I am an Englishman who has spent his adult life in Spain, mostly as an English teacher, translator and occasional writer of textbooks. For the last 13 years I have lived in a small city in La Mancha, the hot and dry area south of Madrid. Here I run a language Academy, teach in a high school, teach the odd course at the University, translate articles for anyone who needs it, and drink cold beer while moaning about the government, You might say I am a professional Englishman. We spend the summer, and weekends whenever possible, in the lake district of Ruidera, 70 miles east of here, where we have a house. [Many of the photos on the blog are of that area]

 

Some five years ago my wife saw a hedgehog in a petshop and informed me she wanted it. Being a loving husband I obliged, and he has had the run of the house ever since. Aside from his documented fetishism, he is rather paranoid, never quite sure if he can trust you, and selfish with food, in that when he finds anything especially tasty he looks at you out of the corner of his eye and then runs under the nearest piece of furniture to enjoy it in peace. We have told him that we have chocolate and nuts of our own, and we have no wish to share his beetles, but he isn't taking any chances. He likes to be with us, sleeping under the bed and coming to run around the living room as soon as he gets up in the evening, but he isn't very keen on being picked up and stroked. He has a special, put-upon expression which he reserves for these occasions.

 

He is now nearly five, as I said, but is a happy- if slightly neurotic- and healthy hedgehog, who still spends the night running around the house, eternally optimistic that around the next corner there will be another little morsel. Which we usually make sure there is. In the summer he loves the farm because it smells of the wider world and he cleans the floor of ants and spiders and so on every night. When we arrive there I swear his face lights up."

 

I confess to sharing this writer's erinaceous weakness, as my family raised an orphan hedgehog to fat and sassy adulthood in Cyprus, many years ago. For more on Crispulito's charming ways, and the love of Spain generally, please see CIngrams' blog "Sounds In the Hickory Wind" (Europe bloglist in sidebar).

Fiji: trouble in Paradise

Fiji's blogwires are humming with discontent at Prime Minister Bainamimara's decision to scrap a draft Constitution that would have required respect for democratic principles. The island has been under military rule since 2009, but has suffered civil unrest since the late 1980s.

As in Ulster, the establishment of peaceful, settled democracy in Fiji is permanently problematic, and for the same reason: the historic importation of outsiders. In 1879, five years after becoming a British colony, indentured labourers began to arrive from India, mostly to work in the sugar industry; some 60,000 were brought in until the scheme ended in 1916.

The workers' contract allowed them to return home after five years, but at their own expense (likely unaffordable); otherwise, free passage would be provided at the end of the tenth year. The subtlety of this plan was that naturally, by that time many of the workforce would be married, have young families and generally have put down roots.

It looks like another legacy of colonialism in the service of business interests. You can follow developments on some of Fiji's blogs on our World Voices page - see the sidebars there.

Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content, whether incorporated in or linked to this blog; or for unintentional error and inaccuracy. The blog author may have, or intend to change, a personal position in any stock or other kind of investment mentioned.

Fiji: trouble in Paradise

Photo: Wikimedia

Fiji's blogwires are humming with discontent at Prime Minister Bainamimara's decision to scrap a draft Constitution that would have required respect for democratic principles. The island has been under military rule since 2009, but has suffered civil unrest since the late 1980s.

As in Ulster, the establishment of peaceful, settled democracy in Fiji is permanently problematic, and for the same reason: the historic importation of outsiders. In 1879, five years after becoming a British colony, indentured labourers began to arrive from India, mostly to work in the sugar industry; some 60,000 were brought in until the scheme ended in 1916.

The workers' contract allowed them to return home after five years, but at their own expense (likely unaffordable); otherwise, free passage would be provided at the end of the tenth year. The subtlety of this plan was that naturally, by that time many of the workforce would be married, have young families and generally have put down roots.

It looks like another legacy of colonialism in the service of business interests. You can follow developments on some of Fiji's blogs on our World Voices page - see the sidebars there.

Nothing here should be taken as personal advice, financial or otherwise. No liability is accepted for third-party content, whether incorporated in or linked to this blog; or for unintentional error and inaccuracy. The blog author may have, or intend to change, a personal position in any stock or other kind of investment mentioned.

China: Inside an iPad factory

Photo: Daily Telegraph

 

The New Yorker's Evan Osnos interviews Li Liao, an artist who got himself hired by Foxconn in Shenzhen so he could make a gallery exhibit of the experience. Not quite as bad as blood diamonds, of course, but.

And according to Liao, they'll take just about anybody.