Alchemy in the Middle Kingdom
A bit of where I’m coming from and where I’m headed
I spent the last four years (up until the end of June) working in international education in China, something that happened as a result of flow, the invisible fabric of the universe that has held me as I wholeheartedly trust the directions in which it takes me.
Sometimes, this fabric feels sturdy, firm, allows our feet to walk with ease as we move forward. It shows us pleasant, agreeable sceneries as we navigate its low-tide forms.
Other times, it acts like a wave of magnificent dimensions, bringing along an awfully beautiful chaos as it raises our awareness in regards to who we are, where we are, what we do, and the people we spend our days with. It helps us question and see why we feel disconnected, and what’s the purpose of it all.
Talking about those four years in China and what they brought me in a single post would be like trying to contain an entire ocean and its different waves into a lake.
Although this was the fourth country in which I’ve lived, those years in the Middle Kingdom were the time of greatest spiritual, personal and professional growth of my life. For the purposes of this essay, I’ll focus on a few professional aspects of that experience.
While living and working there, I had the opportunity to fine-tune my understanding of the purpose of education and the difference between being a teacher and being an educator. That showed me a wide picture of how international education is understood and sold by different institutions driven by completely diverse motivations.
I worked under types of leadership I hadn’t experienced before — and witnessed and underwent their respectively nourishing and devastating impacts. I also led educational initiatives, projects and departments and, through the eyes of my students and colleagues, and my always-expanding self-awareness, realised the leader I want to be and the kind of leadership I believe in.
I furthered my studies, skills and abilities and learned a lot. I finally understood that the main object of my learning is learning itself, and that’s the reason why I have never been able to continuously dedicate myself to a single, well-defined career path. I discovered what that meant, and am now not only at peace with but rejoicing in my multipotentiality.
I had the chance to live in two large Chinese cities, visit another ten, and travel to nine new countries. In combination with my previous experiences living in and traveling to other nations, I could see the shape of different perspectives and how we, as a result, have taken care of ourselves, our fellow humans, our Mother Nature, and all the other creatures who are equally part of it. Those dynamics highlighted the paramountcy of education in shaping our individual and collective values, our understanding and our visions of the dance between notions of past, present and future, and, more so, my purpose in it all.
As I got hit by that magnificent wave of flow during my last year in China, I watched the scope of my awareness grow in ever-expanding, concentric circles. What it revealed was a newfound need for alignment with the new self I had both cultivated and witnessed grow over those years. The questions I asked myself following that realisation were too loud to be ignored and brought about answers in forms I had once entertained, but never with the breadth and the depth they were now presenting themselves to me.
Staying where I was — professionally, personally, socially, geographically, spiritually — was no longer an option. That wave had drowned me too deep and led me to choose a completely new path moving forward, one in which I could experience a new kind of freedom and being.
So now I write.
I write all of the words that have chased me since I was a child, asking to be seen, heard and spoken. I write the words that keep me up at night and make me get up and record them under their threat of tragic forgetfulness and their demands for immediate existence.
I write the poetry that sits in meditation with me and the stories that corner me with their whys and missions.
Writing has turned moments into lived stories as I throw my whole body in this year of investment — as I’m calling it. It has held firm hands with my dedication to and the co-creation of projects in human and planetary regeneration — and the manifestation of timelines I’ve been cradling in my imagination for years now.
Where this year of deep alignment will take me? I have a beautiful vision which sharpens as I surrender to the unknown and trust the knowingness of my heart.
How about you? How sharp is your vision? What deep transformations have occurred in you and are now guiding your steps forward?
