Outside the door I made but don't close
by Shiwu (Stonehouse)English version by Red Pine
Original Language Chinese
Outside the door I made but don't close
I glimpse the movements of unfamiliar birds
a handful of jade is worth a whole mountain
but gold can't buy a lifetime of freedom
the sound of icy falls on a dawnlit snowy ridge
the sight of distant peaks through leafless autumn woods
mist lifts from ancient cedars and days last forever
right and wrong don't get past the clouds
 | -- from The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit, Translated by Red Pine |
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/ Image by Michael Levine-Clark /
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This poem feels to me like a Chinese brush painting, specific details observed suggesting a panoramic landscape, yet when we try to enter the scene it becomes ephemeral and slightly elusive.
Outside the door I made but don't close
I glimpse the movements of unfamiliar birds
That opening line about a door the poet made but does not close, I skimmed past it the first few times I read this poem, but now it grabs my attention. I love the idea of having gone to all the effort of constructing a door and then never using it because you always want it open so you can see and hear the outside world, so no barrier is created between inside and outside.
a handful of jade is worth a whole mountain
but gold can't buy a lifetime of freedom
Two lines to contemplate and dismiss the dilemmas of wealth. People tend to commodify all of existence, placing a price tag on every experience and thing and even other people. A handful of jade is enough to buy an entire mountain. Who says that's what a mountain is worth? Or what jade is worth? Exchanging that jade for the pretense of owning that mountain, what do we then have? What has changed for us? Can we breathe easier? Are we more free? The game of money might be worth playing, or not, but it is not the game of freedom.
the sound of icy falls on a dawnlit snowy ridge
the sight of distant peaks through leafless autumn woods
Freedom is found through other mediums of exchange, usually involving stillness, attention, compassion -- and harmony with the living world all around us.
mist lifts from ancient cedars and days last forever
right and wrong don't get past the clouds
Real freedom carries the flavor of timelessness. The world continues in its rhythms, of course, and the serial unfolding of events does not stop, but the rush of time ceases to drive them. It becomes as if one is simply watching the flow of a gentle creek; movement occurs, but it is a serene unfolding within a larger scene of rest.
When we discover this timeless place, when we find ourselves at peace in the midst of the serene beauty surrounding us, when there is no sense of "I and mine" driving the moment, where then are "right" and "wrong"? Ideas of this and not that cannot approach the open field of what is.
Let's try to leave those doors we've made ajar today. Have a beautiful day!
Recommended Books: Shiwu (Stonehouse)
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| The Zen Works of Stonehouse: Poems and Talks of a 14th Century Chinese Hermit | ||||
