The bird nest thought got developed further yesterday when visiting friend’s friend’s friend for tea. Sunny Sunday afternoon, delicious delicate teas, some Taiwan Oolong, some Fujian Cliff, some Hong Kong Pu-erh. As Li Bai said, one cup after another, over and over and over.

Too bad that we were in a New York apartment instead of the mountain where his hermit friend lives, otherwise if we got tea drunk, I could just lie down on the rock and tell the friends that “Now I’m drunk and feel sleepy, my friend you better go – And tomorrow come back if you wish, bring your lute with you!”, even not realizing that I was the visitor coming from the city to drink with the host living among the flower blossom, and the one who should be leaving when the host might be drunk and sleepy!

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Now Liezi could ride upon the wind. Sailing happily in the cool breeze, he would go on for fifteen days before his return. Among mortals who attain happiness, such a man is rare. Yet although Liezi could dispense with walking, he would still have to depend upon something.

– Zhuangzi, Chapter I

心凝形釋，骨肉都融；不覺形之所倚，足之所履，隨風東西，猶木葉干殼。竟不知風乘我邪？我乘風乎？

– 列子 黄帝

My mind concentrated and my body relaxed, bones and flesh fused completely, I did not notice what my body leaned against and my feet trod, I drifted with the wind East or West, like a leaf from a tree or a dry husk, and never knew whether it was the wind that rode me or I that rode the wind.

– Lie Zi, Huang Di (Translated by Angus Charles Graham)

When my mind is concentrated, my body disperses, his bones and flesh dissolve. Being unconscious of where my body leans against and where my feet trod, I drift far and wide with the wind, just like a leaf falling from a tree and a dry husk from a trunk. Then I could not tell if it is the wind that rides me, or it is I that ride the wind?

For many years I believed that Chinese gods and goddesses are not the same kind of deities defined by encyclopedias and religions – they are more humane and folksy, and there is some kind of kinship between us: many of them have real names and birthdays to be celebrated every year; I make a wish they help me I in turn bring offerings to thank them; and there are always some local gods only in charge of the very village where he seats.

They are my ancestors, my neighbors, my teachers and my buddies; they live in the hut around the corner or on top of my stove; they know exactly whether I have been a good girl or the naughty truant.

Then I went to college to study Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels and other revolutionary hierophant’s teachings, and as condiments I read a bunch of mythology, a pinch of religion, and some dip of folklore, all being exotic yet déjà vu at the same time.

So I learnt to compartmentalize my holy deities: those with responsibilities are the gods using western terminology, such as the Jade Emperor in charge of the whole Celestial Empire; those immortals with no particular duty, Liu Ling for wine Li Bai for poetry ; and the saints once walked on the earth turned to demigods, Guan Yu is the red faced bearded hero, Confucius is the confused old grandpa helping to pass exams.

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