Morning Tao

While living and working in Singapore, I was privileged to occasionally travel to Beijing to work with our Chinese partners on medical informatics business ventures.

Even then it was clear that the Brobdingnagian Asian Dragon was stirring; the great engine of commerce moving into high gear. Once I asked a young middle school student what he wanted to be when he grew up. “Rich,” he said, neatly avoiding all those pesky intermediate steps.

In Beijing, this headlong rush to wealth churns a cloud of dust and detritus resulting in a pollution-inspired yellow atmosphere more befitting the moons of Jupiter than the planet Earth. This ever-present environmental gloom would eat away at my generally positive nature, and my work would begin to suffer.

So early each morning, prior to launching myself into Beijing’s delightfully chewable blend of hydrocarbons, it became my habit to seek out perspective and balance in the morning mists of the parks surrounding Peking University.

It is peaceful to stroll around the lake, among the pines; an oasis of quiet amid the unrelenting stress of future expectations — both China’s and my own. The tranquility of the park is complemented by the slow, graceful movements of Tai Chi practitioners, their transitions smooth and even.

Sometimes I would pass an older couple walking slowly along the path on their morning constitutional. The old gentleman would walk leisurely with his wife at his side, often arm in arm. I was made whole in the presence of such constancy and would view the coming day with renewed optimism.

On other days however I noticed that she was behind him, walking backward. Increasingly, I began to take notice of this activity — people walking backward in the park, the dawn casting elongated shadows in their wake.

Explanations are plentiful and varied. I have heard the ancient Chinese myth about an immortal who could walk backward faster than the eye could see. Others believe that walking backward is a kind of karmic eraser; allowing you to correct the mistakes and sins of the past, step by negative step.

My practical western mind assumed that this phenomenon is in response to some joint or lower-back problem. After all, the older couple was well into their 70s and walking backward is known as an excellent rehabilitative exercise.

Weeks passed and I eventually began to see the old man walking alone, unaccompanied, inaccessible — an anonymous traveler on an incomplete voyage. I thought about the yin and the yang, opposites in the principle of the Tao, each containing the seeds of the other, each destined to become the other.

All journeys end and I would eventually return home to Singapore. Thinking back, I cannot speak of China and her destiny — the land is too vast, the history too long, the narrative too large. But here on the ground, where people live their lives and stories beget stories and the sun cuts through the pines, I am, as always, alone within my thoughts: Does the old man ever feel the need to walk backwards to erase his sins? Will he defy the Fates and walk the winding path face-on, a proud and solitary figure moving slowly toward another day? Or does he sometimes sense the presence of his constant companion, walking backward, moving faster than the eye can see?

#AsiaTao #Tavel