mindfulness

A client from New York asked me what I do when I get stressed. I told her: I read the Tao Te Ching. She looked at me funny — she was expecting "yoga" or "a glass of wine" maybe. But I've been reading it for over a decade now. Someone gave me a copy years ago, and it stuck. There's a line I think about a lot when work gets overwhelming: "The best way to fill a cup is to empty it first." (I'm paraphrasing — the original is more elegant.) I'm not saying you need to read ancient Chinese philosophy to enjoy China. But if you visit a Taoist temple — like Qingyang Palace in Chengdu or the temples on Qingcheng Mountain — sit quietly for a few minutes before pulling out your phone. Read the inscriptions on the pillars. Watch the incense smoke rise. You don't need to understand every character to feel what the space is trying to say. Most tourists photograph the building and leave. The ones who stay a little longer are the ones who remember it differently.

A solo traveler from Brazil asked me yesterday: "Is it weird to travel China alone?" I told her about the afternoon I spent by myself at a temple in the mountains outside Chengdu. No phone signal, no itinerary, just me and the sound of wind through bamboo. One of the best afternoons of my life. China is actually great for solo travel — especially if you want time to think. Morning tai chi in a park full of strangers who don't mind your presence. A quiet corner in a tea house with a book. Walking the Great Wall sections away from the cable car crowds. The secret most people don't know: Chinese culture values that kind of solitude too. The concept of "独处" (being alone) isn't loneliness — it's self-containment. A chance to reset. My advice: pick one city and stay 4-5 days instead of jumping cities every 2. Find a neighborhood coffee shop. Visit the same noodle place twice. Let the place find you instead of chasing it. That's where the real China shows up.