When we release control of the journey

I don't like to be still, but I am learning that in the stillness, the deepest lessons are learned.

I don't always like to listen, but I am learning that in listening, the most profound stories are brought forth.

But above all, the idea of journeying without destinations? Terrifying. Yet, I am learning that the journey is the most important destination.

And so, my bag of expectations for this year in China continues to become lighter as I learn to let the journey speak for itself. And oh, how freeing that is!

This past February, as I backpacked through Sichuan and Yunnan, China, I met many strangers who only helped me become more sure of the above-mentioned realizations. Whether it was eating sugar cane and watching older Chinese men play board games, hiking alongside local village people or devouring Chinese New Year treats amidst loud uproars of laughing and storytelling, God continued to remind me that in releasing ourselves into the grace of the journey stillness, listening and curious wandering will guide us. We can only trust that there is something beyond ourselves at work as we tend to the simplicity of life.

Stillness

I continue to long for things to do, ways to feel busy and purposeful here in China. I am thankful for the times that my host family allows me to help wash the dishes or when those at my internship give me a job to do, even if it is just counting newsletters or translating a small paragraph. "Yay, finally, something do to!" But that feeling of worth only lasts for a short while before the longing returns - the longing to feel I have something to offer.

But I think about the Tibetan monks in Shangri-la and the devoted 佛教 (Buddhist) followers I met at the 松赞林寺 (Songzanlin temple) in Yunnan. Their daily lives, devoted to something bigger than themselves, are not filled with busy schedules and numerous tasks, but rather stillness.

As we joined with many 佛教徒 (Buddhists) in circling the temple by foot, a sudden peace permeated the atmosphere. Though their bodies were moving, their spirits were still. Women put spices under their nose to help with the altitude, men rested under a tree before continuing to walk. The time they were taking away from daily life to allow their spirits to be still spoke volumes.

To be still is not to be without purpose, rather it is to acknowledge our humanness and the need for dependence on God or, in the Tibetan monks' case, Buddha.

Listening

The sounds of China are some of my favorite: loud disputes over card games and 麻将, food being freshly-cooked, motorbikes winding through the streets, crowds of people gathering for 7 p.m. dancing in the park.

When I take time to listen, a culture speaks. God speaks.

Spending three days wandering through the mountainous gorges of Yunnan, I encountered a new China. I first met a young woman walking by foot back to her village. She didn't say much, nor did I. She just handed me a few sunflower seeds and off we went, wandering the trails. I spent an evening in a Tibetan guesthouse discussing the culture of Tibetan Chinese people.

Here in China, I too often expect community and relationships to form just as deeply as those back home. I exhaust myself trying to create these kinds of relationships. But in listening to others' stories and lives, it is only more clear that all we can do is meet people where they are at in their journey. And that is where the deepest growth is cultivated.

Curious Wandering

And at the end of the day, we must continue to be curious. Only when we are curious can we allow ourselves to grow.

In Yuanyang, China, I wandered into a village hoping to attend their weekday market only to find out it had already closed. My first instinct was to turn and head back, but my friend Sam continued to walk, peeking into stores and down alleyways.

We soon stumbled upon a group of ethnic minority men playing a rather complicated board game. Seeing us, they immediately pulled out two more chairs and offered us a seat and some sugar cane to chew on. We laughed together, tried to communicate though their 普通话 (Mandarin) was rather rough. Only because of curious wandering did this opportunity for new friends arise.

Lastly, I am reminded of my time spent in Sichuan for the Chinese Spring Festival. More than thirty people crowded around one table preparing to eat chicken feet, pig ear, cow stomach, fried beef, etc. Their culture so different than my own, but oh so fascinating. And so I tried it all - even the pig tail. Sometimes being curious is the greatest gift we can give to new strangers, soon to be friends.

And so, we keep wandering, collecting new learnings on this journey.

In this season, I often don't have a clear purpose, or know how I am impacting others, if I am impacting others. I fear this journey I am on is not enough. But God continues to remind me that this is the journey I have been given to make meaning of.

Now all I am asked to do is be aware, be still, listen, and be curious. There is purpose in that. There is grace.