Sunday is usually the slowest, sweetest day in the Wudang Mountains. Today was also a national holiday, and the population of this sleepy village swelled by an astonishing number.
All weekend, the place buzzed with people and activity, something I haven’t seen in two years. The strange thing about this crowded country is that, with over a billion people calling it home, there still seems to be enough room for everyone. I have no idea how it works. It just does.
The day itself felt lazy. I helped a friend with some filming, something I’m going to stop doing, because it simply isn’t fun for me anymore. I walked through the park, where the changing leaves act like a warning that winter is coming, beautiful yet a sign of what lies ahead. I had a quiet coffee, watched the world come and go without a care, and embraced the luxury of having nowhere to be and not much to achieve.
Sundays tick by at the perfect pace. A slow river. A gentle breeze rattles the leaves of a tree. A calm I never stop appreciating. I find these days not only enjoyable but necessary. The weeks have felt long lately, and I suspect it’s because I’ll be leaving soon. There still feels like a lot to achieve, even though I know there’s little to achieve at all, that this journey has no ending, and every day is just another puzzle to enjoy.
I think the week ahead will be a quiet one. My mind needs rest, a little more peace inside the constant activity of school life. I enjoy this place more than I’ve enjoyed almost anything in my life, but even the best things need a pause now and then, enough room and space for something new to appear.
Looking forward to what might show up.