My Bucket List

Shells in the Sands Series #5

The intention for this series is to share cherished thoughts and reflections of life in bite-size pieces. I have been an avid journal writer since my early teens, and most of the original writings were initially captured in my personal journal. I have chosen the most pertinent ones to share with the world through this series. This joy is similar to picking out beautiful shells while walking on a sandy beach.

I often wonder what my 50th birthday would be like. This question looms larger as I recently celebrated another birthday as a thirty-something, edging ever closer to 40.

In Chinese culture, 50 signifies maturity: you’ve had enough experiences in this earthly school, endured your fair share of tests and difficulties, and are now primed for wisdom. That’s why I often thought that if I were to write a book, as many friends have suggested, I would have to wait until after turning 50 to qualify.

So, my bucket list revolves around what I would like to do after I turn 50, when the second half of my life begins. The golden thread is that I’d like to honor my being over my doing, my thriving over my surviving, and my inner fulfillment more than my external success. This is going to be an inverse of the way the first half of my life played out.

I thought about venturing into areas very interesting yet very foreign to me, such as astronomy, but decided to stay within the “circle of competence” as advocated by Warren Buffett, even though my reasoning is far from focused on making proper investments. My reason is more aligned with the complexity principle of change: the opportunity for change comes from exploring adjacent possibilities.

Chinese medicine, music and gardening are three adjacent possibilities within my circle of competence.

I have decided that three areas are the adjacent possibilities within my circle of competence: Chinese medicine, music and gardening.

Growing up with a Grandfather whose practice in Chinese medicine profoundly influenced my life from birth, as detailed in The Art of Chinese Medicine, Part 1: My Grandfather, I hold Chinese medicine close to my heart. It seemed almost natural to consider a career in this field.

Connecting the dots through the rear view mirror, I can identify two reasons why it did not materialize.

The first revolves around healing my inner turmoil stemming from the loss of my parents at a young age, which took precedence over my interest in physical healing. I recall a pivotal conversation with my grandfather during my high school years. He shared that roughly 30% of human ailments are physically rooted, with the remainder linked to emotional and spiritual imbalances. This perspective guided my decision to study literature in college, and I continue to explore philosophy and spirituality, which offer the healing I seek. It’s evident that we gravitate towards the work that heals us the most.

The second reason is my disinterest in practicing within a conventional medical setting. To me, the healthcare system often feels more focused on managing sickness rather than promoting health. The trend towards “cookbook medicine” overlooks the complexity of the human body, and the intricate interplay between the human body and its environment.

Studying Chinese medicine would have been like coming full circle for me. My interest in this field is not driven by a desire to cure illness but by an appreciation for a medical philosophy that understands health within its broader environmental context and emphasizes proactive health guidance over reactive care.

I envision creating a community of like-minded individuals passionate about exploring our place in the universe and taking proactive steps towards health and well-being. I cherish the idea of nurturing my body, a faithful servant and the vessel through which my soul expresses itself in this material world.

This community would also be a platform for me to integrate the spiritual principles I’ve embraced, particularly the Daoist belief that while acquiring knowledge is beneficial, simplicity is key in spiritual matters. As I navigate the latter half of my life, the focus shifts towards letting go. Our society often emphasizes acquisition and creation, but in the spiritual domain, detachment from past and future attachments proves more challenging, yet it’s essential for living in the present. This, I believe, ties back to the emotional origins of illness my grandfather highlighted.

Another aspiration of mine is to launch a podcast. Perhaps the ideal way to realize this dream is by creating a podcast series on holistic health that merges my Chinese medicine heritage with my Western cultural insights.

In my envisioned community centered around Chinese medicine, a significant emphasis will be placed on a healthy lifestyle and eating habits. This approach is rooted in the Chinese medicinal philosophy that food and medicine originate from the same source. From a young age, my grandfather instilled in me the practice of healthy eating, a habit that has greatly benefited my well-being.

Gardening plays a crucial role in this lifestyle. I was born and raised in the countryside of China, spending my first ten years in a farming village where we grew most of our food on our land. Our village was renowned for its apples, but we also cultivated peanuts, corn, wheat, and potatoes. Almost every family had a garden for daily vegetable needs, such as cucumbers, beans, tomatoes, and squash. My childhood is filled with memories of tending the garden with my family, an experience that deeply connected me to the earth and its cycles.

Even after moving to the city in my teenage years, my grandfather found a way to maintain a vegetable garden. Working alongside him during the summer vacations remains one of my fondest memories. I particularly cherish the moments when he encouraged me to walk barefoot on the grass near our garden, allowing us to connect with the earth as if we were two carefree children. These memories are treasures I will always carry with me.

This background has made the concept of growing my own food a familiar and comforting idea. I recall a conversation with a friend who moved to a farm to raise her children closer to nature. She remarked, “Many children today believe food is grown in grocery stores. I want my children to understand where it truly comes from.” Her words resonated with me and filled me with gratitude for my own upbringing.

Despite urbanization’s relentless march, which often distances people from agricultural roots, the rise of urban gardens offers hope. Initiatives like NYC Parks GreenThumb exemplify this movement’s growth in industrialized nations. I am optimistic about integrating this aspect of my heritage into my life, wherever I may be when I am 50. My farmer’s roots, coupled with an eagerness to learn modern gardening techniques, inspire me. Gardening, like all facets of human civilization, continues to evolve, and I am excited to be a part of this evolution.

While returning to gardening and Chinese medicine symbolizes a journey coming full circle, music occupies a distinct and separate space in my life. In my upbringing, music was a luxury, often perceived as an endeavor for those with ample resources to nurture such a talent. In the schools I attended in China, music education was scarcely offered, and musical instruments were notably absent from my childhood home and the orphanage where I lived after losing my parents.

I regard music as a path not taken, a desire unfulfilled due to the circumstances of my youth. Despite now possessing the means, the relentless pace of middle-aged life leaves little room for tranquility to truly savor and engage with music. Yet, my commitment to exploring music, particularly through learning the piano, remains undiminished as I look towards the second half of my life.

I’ve always believed music to be within my realm of talents. This belief is supported by my academic achievements, which highlight my strengths in pattern, word, and mathematical thinking — skills that are closely aligned with musical ability. However, I acknowledge my limitations in visual-spatial and object-oriented thinking, which perhaps explains my lack of inclination towards painting, dancing, crafts, or sports. This self-awareness echoes Warren Buffet’s wisdom on sticking to one’s “circle of competence.”

My connection to music is further validated by personal experiences. Grandma Olga, who supported me in the orphanage and hailed from Vienna — a city renowned for its musical heritage — often complimented on my ability to carry a tune. Moreover, my proficiency in English can be partly attributed to my knack for distinguishing phonetics and mimicking native speakers accurately, which tie back to music abilities.

My affection for music lies not only in its elegance and fluidity but also in its ability to convey depth and breadth beyond words. Music, in many ways, serves as the language of the soul, connecting deeply with my interest in Chinese medicine’s mission to promote healing and well-being across the world.

I’ve been intrigued by the notion that childhood experiences profoundly influence our adult lives. A particular perspective suggests adults strive to recreate the joyous aspects of their childhood while seeking to heal from its sorrows. As I ponder this, I realize that both desires significantly influence my vision for life after turning 50. Indeed, it seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

As I reflect on the path ahead, I am filled with a sense of promise and anticipation. By the time I reach the significant milestone of 50 years old, I hope to have achieved the long-desired state of financial independence. However, this independence is not defined by an abundance of wealth, but rather by the ability to meet my essential material needs without being shackled to the unrelenting rat race. This form of independence will allow me to devote my time and efforts toward achieving the dreams listed in my bucket list, free from the constraints of economic pressures.

You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you.

-James Allen, British philosopher

It is this aspiration that guides my thoughts and actions today, as a thirty-something individual. For as the wise British philosopher James Allen so eloquently stated, “You are today where your thoughts have brought you; you will be tomorrow where your thoughts take you.” Allen’s words remind me that the present is a product of our past thoughts, and our future will be determined by our current mindset. With this awareness, I actively engage in shaping my present, sowing seeds of intention that I trust will cultivate a future rich in fulfillment, wisdom, and the liberty to truly honor my being.