Stirring Point

The next 6 weeks should be a doozy. From my now-home in Denver, Colorado, I’ll fly east to my childhood home in the Poconos, Pennsylvania, for a first sip of autumn air. I’ll follow this with a visit to my spiritual home in Vermont, where I’ll plunge into the cool waters of Dog Pond by day and warm myself near the fire by night. Then I’m off to my once-home of New York City for a food-and-music-filled jaunt, poking around the old haunts of my 20s and searching for new ones to explore.

From there, I’ll fly to Xi’an, China, where I’ll join a Nat Hab group (my employer) for a chance to see the ancient Terracotta Warriors. Next, we’ll catch a bullet train southeast to the Sichuan Province, where we’ll search for wild takin, Tibetan macaques, red pandas, and golden snub-nosed monkeys. Finally, we’ll scour the forest for giant pandas—an unlikely sighting—but closeups of pandas are likely to be had in the managed reserves of Pingwu and Rilong. 

The mountains of Sichuan will give way to the skyscrapers of Beijing, where the modern and the ancient battle for human attention. I’ll stand on the Great Wall; I’ll walk through Tianamen Square; I’ll eat Peking duck and fresh dumplings stuffed with pork and chives. Then I’ll fly south to Taipei, Taiwan, where I’ll spend a week training Jiu Jitsu with a local team I’ve yet to meet. I’ll train to the point of exhaustion, devour street food, and wander until my shoes beg for mercy. 

It’s been 19 years since my last visit to China. Over the past two decades, much has changed for us both. She’s become a global superpower, disrupting the balance of Pax Americana established after World War II. I have less hair, and my hand-eye coordination is slowing down. Yet in a way, we’ve both grown together—side-by-side—into the comfort of our own skin. We’ve emerged, wiggling free of our cocoons, and carry ourselves with greater poise.

Taiwan is a new destination for me. I’m eager to see her streets; I’m thirsty for her culture. I can hear the bustle of her markets and see the neon lights spilling across the sidewalks. The oyster pancakes and beef noodle soup make my mouth water. Boba tea and fresh lychee are the sweet treats that sate the last bits of hunger.

Along the way, I’ll share precious time with family and friends. Moments will be cherished, birthdays will be celebrated, stories will be told. I’ll relish this time and intend to be “present” for it all, knowing that looking past the moment toward greener pastures is a failure of awareness. How lucky I am to wake with a calm mind. How lucky I am to have the life I’ve been given.