Have you ever thought that spiritual practice must happen in seclusion, away from the world?
But Zhuangzi teaches us: cultivation is never about a specific form.

The book tells stories of a wheelwright, a vegetable farmer, a butcher, an old man catching cicadas—ordinary scenes of life that reveal a deeper truth:

“To devote a lifetime to doing one thing with full attention—that is true cultivation.”

When Confucius saw the old man catching cicadas as easily as picking them up from the ground, he asked for his secret. The man replied:

“I stand like a withered tree, my arm like a dead branch. Though the world is vast and everything is changing, I see only the cicada’s wings.”

To focus the mind and concentrate the spirit, day after day, year after year—that is practice.

It’s not only about meditation, tai chi, or qigong. Whenever you do something with heart, every moment becomes a practice.
Cultivation is not in the form—it’s in the mind.