An Old Chan Temple in the Park, TaipeiMoss here and there on the old rough-cut stone steps, greenery around these steep steps viewed up through the ‘Enter Liberation’ gate. A very relaxed Guan Yin, at the first landing, arm on her knee, calm reflection, musing on her face. Turning up and up to a memorial hall platform and the cityscape all around. Tablets, urns, ashes, quiet inside, an old monk dozing in the corner; from the platform outside a view of the metropolis of being busy. Zhuangzi says, the ten thousand things and we are one. Quiet as well as hectic action. Or emptiness and form as Guan Yin might laconically say. Between the urns and ashes and the steel and concrete, the monks and nuns mindfully breathing in, breathing out mindfully.