Sauce II.
There is a Chinese verb, 沉淀 (chen2 dian4).
The literal meaning of 沉淀 is the phenomenon of sediment separating and settling at the bottom of an aqueous solution. But the words are often used in the context of advice: after a period of chaos or confusion, you may be advised to 沉淀 for a while - to “let the dust inside you settle” or maybe more lyrically, to “calm the waves inside you.”
Had a health scare? Maybe you should take it easy and 沉淀.
Went through a bad breakup? Perhaps you should withdraw to a quiet place and 沉淀.
The idea is that, after this period of quiet introspection, you emerge more collected, with greater solidity, a stiffer resolve.
The phrase conjures up images of the fifth-century classical Chinese poet Tao Yuanming, the “Poet of the Fields" sipping wine and writing on his farm. He has fled government service, disillusioned, to reconvene with the natural landscape, untouched by the war and unrest that raged across China.
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Today, Tao Yuanming is back in vogue. Early last year, the Rem Koolhaas exhibition at the Guggenheim, Countryside: A Future, featured Tao’s fable Peach Blossom Spring, about a fisherman who stumbles upon paradise after sailing down on a river of peach blossoms to a life of simple rustic pleasures. “The countryside must be rediscovered as a place to resettle, to stay alive,” writes Koolhaas in the accompanying book to the exhibition. It is a "base from which to make the world a better place."
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In my last post, a bottle of sauce had, through stasis, seen its chunky bits settle and a film of water form at its surface.
If used in the moment, the sauce would be watery and unappetizing.
But, seen in a different light, the bottle has enjoyed a stability and serenity that has allowed its bits to settle. No rotating door of customers that it needs to serve, no movement from shelf to shelf unsure where it will ultimately land. It has stood in its spot on the table, quietly. Ruminating? Intense unrest is all around, yet the bottle does not know of it. It is deeply engaged in 沉淀.
Should the bottle of sauce have been used over and over, drained quickly and then tossed into the trash can, would it have known what good bits it contained? Of all the bottles that came trundling off the conveyor belt and into the arms of consumers, how many have shared the privilege of a mid-life breather?
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...
山气日夕佳，飞鸟相与还。
此中有真意，欲辨已忘言。
-- 《饮酒》最后几行，陶渊明
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The mountain air is fine at evening of the day
And flying birds return together homewards.
Within these things there is a hint of Truth,
But when I start to tell it, I cannot find the words.
-- from "Written While Drunk",Tao Yuanming, trans. William Acker
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(If you liked these thoughts on Chinese landscape, you might like a translation I did of the architect Wang Shu's piece, Crafting Character Through Landscape)