May + June 2025: Wandering & Rooting

postcards from Mendocino, NYC, Italy, Asheville, and Palo Alto

A lot has happened in my life recently. In this post, I want to keep it simple: a handful of postcard-style reflections from two months of travel, and finally, a moment of arrival.

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In May, I traveled from coast-to-coast and then across the pond. I began on the northern California coast, at a retreat¹ nestled in the redwoods of Mendocino. The community was loosely organized around entrepreneurs exploring consciousness and spirituality, but the actual experience of being together felt far more authentic than any label could capture. Surrounded by people with both conventional success and deep spiritual practice, I left feeling inspired. It reminded me that I don’t have to choose those two worlds, and can instead keep walking the tightrope of integration.

I lucked out and got to glamp instead of being in the 10 person bunk house

Back home, I packed my carry-on for one last big trip—or really, a series of them. First stop: New York City, likely the last time I’ll live there (though I’ll definitely keep visiting). We celebrated my girlfriend’s graduation from medical school, and I hung out with friends—accompanied by the unusual feeling of not knowing when I’ll see them next. I’m deeply grateful to NYC, my seasonal home for the past 5 years. It’s where I learned to dream and where I came to understand the currency of ambition.

After a full day of graduation festivities, I boarded a midnight flight to Rome. I spent the first few days in a hostel, chasing the nostalgic wanderlust of my early 20s—when I backpacked through SE Asia, Patagonia, Europe, and Morocco. The hostel served dinner each night, ranging from free to a few euros. On my first evening, over paper plates piled high with free “salad rice”, I met a few fellow travelers.

I met a young guy who’d just quit his job as a windshield repair tech² to travel the world until he ran out of his $20K in savings. I felt inspired, partly in the vicarious sense, but also from a place of self-gratitude. I remembered my younger self who once prioritized adventure over stability, community, or dating. Back then, I wasn’t sure if it was the right call. But now I’m grateful for the memory bank of sublime moments and borderline reckless stories I get to revisit.

Once my girlfriend flew in, we spent ten days roadtripping through Tuscany, hopping from one rustic Airbnb to the next. I arrived carrying the residual busyness of the past months, eager to soak in the slowness of Italian life. It was my first time in Italy, and I found myself wondering what factors fuel American perception that Europeans live with more leisure and less hustle. Was it the weather? The wine? The late dinners that stretch into midnight?

I noticed a few things. Grocery stores and cafes were much simpler. I went out for dinner and was warned (twice) that I would only have an hour to eat before the 9pm reservation arrived. I ordered a pasta and a side of boiled escarole, not realizing that each course is served and eaten separately. As I sat there with just a lone plate of veggies in front of me, I felt oddly quiet. As a Chinese-American, I’m used to meals where dishes arrive all at once, so they can be eaten together and flavors can mix freely. But here, the simplicity of the structure made it easier to slow down. And that’s something I wanted to bring back with me.

imagine eating this entire plate of greens by itself

In Florence—the birthplace of the Renaissance—I found myself wondering if the claims are true: are we living through a second one? As we wandered the halls of the Uffizi Gallery and Palazzo Pitti, I thought about what a modern Renaissance figure might look like. Who (or what) would be today’s Medici family? And what are the new mediums of storytelling and creativity, now that painting and sculpture have evolved into pixels and code?

I left Italy both relaxed and ready. It was the first true vacation I’d taken in months. Even with the flexibility and freedom to shape my own schedule, it’s been surprisingly hard to unplug for more than a few days. This time, I wanted to be fully present, so I rescheduled all my coaching sessions and kept my laptop off. For someone self-employed, that wasn’t easy.

one the highlights was staying in this old villa that had been renovated with modern fixtures, our host Laura lived there too and made us a huge breakfast from scratch every morning, and it was really affordable too

With NYC and Italy complete, my final stop was Asheville, NC for my Hakomi therapy training. After several weekends of all-day Zooms, meeting my fellow students in person was a true delight. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d learned something without a screen, or how fun it is to practice skills that require no tools, no tech, just attention. Spending five days in the company of therapists, yoga teachers, bodyworkers, and other coaches felt refreshing—a different crowd than I usually find myself in. We’re only halfway into the training, but I’m already starting to explore how to weave Hakomi into my coaching practice.

Back in California, my whole system let out a sigh of relief. With no more travel on the calendar and my first yearlong lease in six years on the horizon, stability was finally in sight. But before we could move in, we got stuck in a holding pattern: a sprinkler had mysteriously gone off, flooding three vertical units and putting the building into restoration mode. It felt almost comically theatrical—that after months of movement and eager anticipation, one last obstacle stood in the way of setting down.

One week after our original move-in date, we arrived eager to compare imagined future to actual reality. The property manager pointed out where our movers could park (we didn’t have any), then where we could park our U-Haul (also didn’t have one). After a few rounds of lugging suitcases and duffel bags containing the totality of our possessions from the car to the apartment, all that remained was the 100-pound, compressed king-sized mattress. We hauled it up the twisting stairs, unboxed it, and watched as it slowly unraveled in the middle of the bare bedroom.

Without a bed frame, sofa, dining table, or any other furniture, our new place looked rather empty on day one—but it already felt like home. That night, with the window open letting fresh air in, I slept soundly, at peace with the start of this next chapter. I was ready to call Palo Alto home.

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P.S. I haven’t written much about what life here has actually been like, but that’s coming soon. For now, I’m slowly settling in and looking to meet new people in the area! If you're nearby (or know someone who is), I’d love to connect.

1. Spirit Camp was our venue, it’s a beautiful place and my second time there!

2. He also told me this crazy of how his colleague had an accident where he broke his back and ended up paralyzed, and how their employer offers healthcare, but is really sketchy about it, which sounded borderline unethical