The Long Walk

How We Travel Through Life Together

To my descendants,

I sometimes think life is very much like a long walk. At the beginning, everyone seems fresh. There is energy. There is excitement. People talk. People laugh. Some move quickly. Some move slowly. Some are very confident about the route even before they have travelled very far.

And because everyone begins from roughly the same starting point, the distances between us initially appear small. But a long walk is different from a short walk. After some time, everything begins to reveal itself. Who has trained. Who understands pace. Who knows how to breathe. Who carries too much. Who prepared properly. Who becomes tired easily. Who gives up quickly. Who continues quietly. Who talks a great deal but does not move very far. 

And perhaps most importantly: who knows how to keep walking when the excitement of starting has disappeared. That is why I like walking as a metaphor for life. A short distance can sometimes be completed through enthusiasm. A long distance requires something else. Rhythm. Discipline. Patience. Health. Adaptation. And the willingness simply to take another step. 

First Learn How to Walk

We normally think walking is something everybody knows. After all, we learnt it as children. But there is a difference between being able to walk and being able to walk a long distance well. A long walk requires learning. How fast should I begin? How should I breathe? When should I drink? When should I rest? What shoes should I wear? How much should I carry? When is discomfort simply part of walking? When is pain telling me something important? These things are learnt through experience.

Life is similar. Simply being alive does not mean we automatically know how to live. Living itself requires practice. We learn how to manage energy. Relationships. Money. Health. Failure. Ambition. Disappointment. Time. We learn when to push. When to rest. When to change direction. When to keep going. And sometimes when to stop. 

Perhaps one of the first lessons of the long walk is: Do not confuse beginning with knowing how to travel. 

Train for the Journey

If you know that the walk will be long, prepare. Train the body. Strengthen the legs. Develop endurance. Learn your own pace. This connects with what I have written earlier about: 強其骨 — strengthen the bones. A strong body is not only useful for the body. It can also train the mind.

When you walk further than you once believed possible, confidence changes. When you train regularly, discipline develops. When the road becomes difficult and you continue, focus develops. So perhaps walking teaches again the three things I find important: confidence, discipline and focus. 

Confidence: I have done difficult things before. Discipline: I know improvement comes through repetition. Focus: I am here, on this step, on this road. Not everywhere else. 

Ten Thousand Steps Begin With One

People sometimes talk about ten thousand steps as though ten thousand were one enormous act. It is not. Ten thousand steps are simply: one, then another, then another, then another. This is how most things in life are built.

A book. One page at a time. A friendship. One conversation at a time. Health. One walk at a time. Knowledge. One lesson at a time. Trust. One reliable action at a time. Character. One repeated choice at a time. This is why I like the old Chinese line: 「不積跬步，無以至千里。」 Without accumulating small steps, one cannot reach a thousand li. The long journey is hidden inside the small step. So never look down upon small progress. Small progress repeated for years becomes something enormous. 

At the Beginning, Everyone Is Close Together

When a family starts walking, everybody is still nearby. Parents. Children. Brothers. Sisters. Friends. Perhaps everyone begins from the same car park. Same entrance. Same road. For a while, the group remains together.

But everyone has different abilities. Different ages. Different bodies. Different motivations. Different experiences. Different minds. Some naturally move faster. Some prefer a slower pace. Some stop often. Some become distracted. Some want to explore another path. Some are tired before the walk has properly begun. And as the distance grows, small differences in pace begin producing larger separation. This is also what happens in life. 

Small Differences Become Large Distances

Two people may begin from very similar circumstances. Same family. Same school. Same neighbourhood. But one reads a little more. One exercises a little more. One saves a little more. One learns continuously. One gives up slightly more quickly. One avoids difficult things. One becomes curious. One becomes resentful. At first these differences are small. Almost invisible. But repeat them for twenty years. Thirty years. Forty years. The distance becomes enormous.

This is the mathematics of the long walk. A small difference in pace, multiplied by time, creates distance. That does not mean one person is necessarily better. But it means habits matter. Time magnifies them. 

Do Not Always Walk at the Pace of the Slowest

When walking with family, there is a difficult question. What happens when one person can walk much faster than another? Should everyone permanently slow down to the pace of the slowest person? Sometimes yes. If someone is sick. Elderly. Injured. Or if staying together is the purpose of that particular walk.

But not always. If the stronger person continually reduces his capacity simply because somebody else refuses to train, eventually nobody grows. There is another way. Walk at your natural pace. Then find a good place. A tree. A bench. A shelter. A café. A viewpoint. Stop. Rest. Wait.

While waiting, do something useful. Observe. Think. Photograph. Read. Reflect. Perhaps enjoy the landscape. Then, when the others arrive, continue together for a while.

I find this a beautiful way of thinking about family. Love does not always require you to shrink yourself to another person's pace. Sometimes love means: move according to your capacity, but leave meeting places. 

Create Meeting Points

Families do not remain physically or psychologically beside one another every moment. Children grow. People marry. Move. Work. Travel. Develop different interests. Eventually everyone walks a somewhat different route. That does not mean the family must disappear. Perhaps families need meeting points. Meals. Festivals. Birthdays. Phone calls. Journeys. The family home. Shared memories. Stories. These are the rest stations.

Places where people who have travelled at different speeds and through different terrain can meet again. Perhaps a family does not have to walk in one line. It only needs to know: we still have places where we meet. That may be enough. 

Some People Need to Walk Alone

There is another thing I have learnt. Not everybody wants advice. You can tell someone: “Do not start too fast.” “Drink some water.” “Train first.” “Wear better shoes.” “Do not carry so much.” But some people will not listen. Perhaps they need to discover it themselves.

They must walk. Become tired. Get a blister. Make the mistake. Then perhaps the advice finally makes sense. This is especially true as children become adults. When they are young: hold the hand. Then: walk beside. Later: allow some distance. Eventually: let them choose their own pace. You cannot walk another person's whole journey for him.

And perhaps you should not. Some understanding only comes through one's own footsteps. 

Give Advice, Then Leave Space

There is a time to teach. And there is a time to leave space. This connects with 留白. If you explain everything, correct everything, control every step, the other person never develops his own sense of direction. So perhaps: give advice. Point out the danger. Share experience. Then sometimes: step aside. Let the person walk. If he makes a harmless mistake, perhaps that mistake becomes the teacher.

A parent cannot remain the walking stick forever. Eventually the child must develop his own legs. 

Some People Give Up Before They Have Really Started

There are also people who begin a long walk already convinced they cannot finish. After one thousand steps: “Tired.” After two thousand: “Too far.” Before the body has reached its actual limit, the mind has already decided. This is interesting. Sometimes the limit is physical. Sometimes the limit is psychological. And sometimes we confuse the two. 

A person says: “I cannot.” But perhaps the more accurate statement is: “I have not yet trained myself to do this.” These are very different sentences. One closes the door. The other leaves it open. 

Present Limit Is Not Always Final Limit

Suppose today I can comfortably walk five thousand steps. Ten thousand feels difficult. That does not necessarily mean ten thousand is impossible. Train. Six thousand. Seven. Eight. Gradually the body adapts. Then one day ten thousand becomes ordinary. This is one of the great lessons of learning.

There is a difference between: my present limit and my absolute limit. Many people mistake the first for the second. That is why training matters. Education matters. Practice matters. We discover that some boundaries can move. 

But Some Limits Are Real

However, do not become foolish. Not every limit should be ignored. Age matters. Injury matters. Health matters. Condition matters. Environment matters. A person who can walk twenty thousand steps comfortably should not automatically demand the same from someone recovering from illness.

Understanding limits is also wisdom. This connects with our earlier discussion: know when to extend a limit, and know when to respect a limit. Push everything and something eventually breaks. Never push anything and capacity never develops. The art lies somewhere between the two. 

Raise the Limit Gradually

Perhaps the best way is: slightly beyond today. Not ten times beyond today. Today five thousand. Perhaps next time six. Let the body adapt. Let confidence grow. This is true for learning too. Give children tasks difficult enough to stretch them. But not so difficult that they conclude: “I can never do this.” Challenge without destruction. This is a good principle for almost everything. 

Talking Is Not Walking

One of the things a long walk reveals very quickly is the difference between talking and doing. Some people have many opinions about walking. They tell others: “You should go faster.” “You should train.” “You should not stop.” “You should be disciplined.” They may speak very confidently. Then the distance begins.

After several kilometres, they are exhausted. There is nothing wrong with being tired. But perhaps it teaches humility. Because: knowing what others should do is not the same as being able to do it yourself. This is true everywhere.

Talking about discipline is easy. Living disciplinarily is harder. Talking about courage is easy. Acting courageously when frightened is different. Talking about generosity is easy. Giving when it costs something is different. So I think a long walk gives very honest feedback. You cannot argue with the distance. 

The Body Exposes Pretence

The body has little interest in our theories. Either the legs have been trained or they have not. Either the lungs can manage or they cannot. Either the pace is sustainable or it is not. This is one reason I value physical practice. It confronts us with reality. Sometimes we are much more capable than we imagined.

Sometimes much less. Both discoveries are useful. They help us see ourselves more clearly. 

Do Not Demand From Others What You Cannot Sustain Yourself

This is perhaps another ethical lesson. Before demanding: “You should walk twenty thousand steps,” ask: Can I? Before saying: “You should have more discipline,” ask: Where is mine? Before telling someone: “Don't complain,” observe: What happens when I am uncomfortable?

This does not mean we can advise only about things we have mastered perfectly. But experience should make us more humble about what we demand from others. A long journey reveals the difference between ideals and actual capability. 

Sustainable Pace Matters More Than Dramatic Beginnings

Some people begin extremely fast. They want to be first. Perhaps for the first kilometre they are far ahead. Then they collapse. Someone else begins quietly. Steady rhythm. Not impressive. But after several hours, he is still moving.

This teaches something about life. A spectacular beginning is not the same as endurance. A person may work eighteen hours a day for three months. Can he live like that for twenty years? Perhaps not. A person may suddenly exercise every day for two weeks. Then stop for six months.

Another walks regularly three times a week for thirty years. Who built the stronger habit? Often: consistency defeats drama. 

Life Is More Like Walking Than Sprinting

This is why I increasingly think life resembles a long walk more than a hundred-metre race. A sprint celebrates maximum speed. A long walk rewards sustainability. There will be occasions to run. An emergency. An opportunity. A short period requiring intense effort. Fine. Run when necessary.

But do not sprint your entire life. You will not see much of the scenery. And eventually you may collapse. 

Find Your Pace

Everyone should learn his own pace. Not the lazy pace that never challenges. Not somebody else's impossible pace. Your sustainable pace. How much work? How much rest? How much social activity? How much solitude? How much exercise? How much ambition?

This is highly individual. One person's comfortable pace exhausts another. Another person's slow pace frustrates someone else. So learn yourself. This is part of the answer to: Who am I? Know your body. Know your rhythm. Then gradually improve it. 

Save Some Breath for the Journey

I have also noticed that on a long walk, unnecessary talking eventually becomes tiring. At the beginning, everyone talks. Stories. Opinions. Jokes. Commentary. After some distance, the group becomes quieter. People conserve their breath. They listen. Footsteps. Birds. Traffic. Wind. Their own breathing.

Perhaps life becomes similar. When young, we sometimes feel a need to speak about everything. Correct everyone. Explain ourselves. Defend every position. Answer every criticism. Later perhaps we learn: save some breath for the journey. This is a principle I increasingly appreciate. 

Not Every Argument Deserves Your Breath

Someone disagrees with you. Must you answer? Someone misunderstands something minor. Must you correct him? Someone says something foolish. Must you spend the next hour proving it? Perhaps sometimes: 难得糊涂. Let it go.

Keep walking. You have a long journey ahead. Energy spent unnecessarily is energy unavailable for something more important. This does not mean never speak. Speak when it matters. But learn to distinguish: important from merely irritating. That distinction saves enormous energy. 

Silence Can Also Be Part of Companionship

Walking quietly beside someone can be beautiful. You do not always need conversation. Two people can simply walk. That itself may be companionship. Perhaps older friendships become like this. There is less need to perform.

Less need to fill every silence. The presence itself becomes sufficient. That is another kind of richness. 

Walking Creates Separation

Over a long enough distance, the group spreads out. One ahead. Several in the middle. One far behind. At the beginning the difference in pace may have been tiny. But distance magnifies difference. This can happen within families too.

Two siblings begin with almost the same environment. Then: one chooses one career. Another something else. One marries. One does not. One takes care of health. One neglects it. One keeps learning. One stops. One is lucky. Another encounters difficulty.

After forty years, their lives may appear completely different. This should not surprise us. Time multiplies small differences. 

Do Not Turn Distance Into Superiority

But be careful. Being further ahead on one road does not necessarily make you a better human being. Perhaps you have more money. Another has better relationships. You walk faster. Another notices more. You travel further. Another understands something you missed.

There are many roads. Many measurements. So do not look backwards at someone and automatically think: “I am better.” Perhaps you are simply further along one particular path. Perspective matters. 

Some People May Choose Another Route

This is also important. Perhaps you want to walk twenty thousand steps. Another person decides at eight thousand to turn towards a garden. You may think: “He gave up.” But perhaps he chose another destination. Not everyone must walk your route. Parents especially must eventually understand this. The child may not become what you imagined. Perhaps that does not mean failure.

Perhaps he is walking somewhere else. We should distinguish: giving up because of fear from choosing another direction because it is truly one's own. These can look similar from a distance. Only careful observation reveals the difference. 

Ask Why You Are Walking

This may be more important than distance. Why are you walking? Health? Companionship? Exploration? Training? Photography? To reach somewhere? Simply because you enjoy walking?

The purpose changes the meaning of the walk. If I am training for endurance, distance matters. If I am photographing birds, perhaps stopping matters. If I am walking with an elderly parent, perhaps staying together matters more than speed.

So before judging success, ask: What is the purpose of this particular walk? This is useful in life too. Not every life has to optimise the same variable. 

Do Not Let the Destination Destroy the Journey

There is another danger. We can become so interested in completing the ten thousand steps that we stop seeing everything else. Head down. Watch counting. Nine thousand three hundred. Nine thousand four hundred. Nine thousand five hundred. But there was: sunlight through a tree, a bird, a friend beside us, a beautiful building, a child laughing, a breeze.

We saw none of it. Then perhaps we achieved the number but missed the walk. Life can become like this. School merely preparation for university. University preparation for work. Work preparation for promotion. Promotion preparation for retirement. And retirement preparation for— what? At some point we must realise: the walking itself was life. 

Enjoy What You Walk

So yes: have goals. Reach destinations. Train. Improve. But also: look. Observe. Enjoy. There is no prize for arriving with no memory of the road. This connects with what I have written about beauty. Life is not only achievement. It is experience. Perhaps the person who can see more becomes richer even while walking the same distance. 

Sometimes Stop

A long walk also requires rest. Stopping is not always failure. Sometimes stopping allows you to continue. Drink. Sit. Stretch. Recover. Look around. This is important in life. We sometimes glorify continuous movement. Work. More work. More achievement.

But rest is part of endurance. Even the heart does not contract continuously. There is rhythm. Effort. Release. Day. Night. Walking. Resting. A good journey needs both. 

Waiting Can Also Be Productive

If you are waiting for someone slower, do not become angry immediately. Perhaps use the time. Think. Photograph. Watch the surroundings. Reflect. Rest the legs. Sometimes waiting creates another experience. This is a useful lesson in family life too.

Not everyone develops at the same speed. One child understands early. Another later. One person matures at twenty. Another at forty. If we become furious at every difference in timing, relationships become difficult. Sometimes: wait without stopping your own development. That is a subtle art. 

Help, But Do Not Carry Forever

If someone is genuinely struggling, help. Offer water. Encouragement. A hand. Slow down for a while. Perhaps carry something. That is compassion. But if you carry an able person for the entire journey, he may never develop his own strength. So assistance must also have limits. Help enough to allow another person to continue. Not so much that he no longer has to walk. This is especially important in raising children. 

The Parent's Greatest Achievement May Be Becoming Unnecessary

At first, the child cannot walk. You carry him. Then he stands. You hold his hand. Then he takes a few steps. You remain nearby. Eventually he runs ahead. There is something almost sad about this. But also beautiful.

Because perhaps successful parenting means gradually becoming less necessary. You have given the child legs. Judgement. Habits. Values. Then you allow him to use them. The parent eventually stops being the road. He becomes one of the places the child knows he can return to. 

The Journey Changes With Age

At different stages, we also walk differently. When young: perhaps faster. Curious. Wanting distance. Wanting challenge. Later: perhaps more aware of the body. More selective. The pace changes. At some point perhaps we no longer care about reaching the furthest point.

We care about whether the walk remains enjoyable. Whether the knees remain healthy. Whether someone we love is walking nearby. This is not necessarily decline. Perhaps the purpose has changed. Remember: different stages of life have different forms of richness. 

Walking Alone

There will also be parts of life you must walk alone. Even in a loving family. Certain decisions. Certain fears. Illness. Grief. Identity. Ageing. Eventually death. Others may accompany you nearby. But there are parts of the experience that remain your own. Do not be frightened by this. Solitude can teach. There are things one hears only after conversation stops. Walking alone allows another kind of attention. 

Walking Together

But there are also distances easier because someone is beside us. The road may be exactly the same. Yet companionship changes experience. A difficult climb with a friend feels different from the same climb alone. This is why relationships are such an important form of richness. Someone does not have to carry you. Sometimes simply knowing that another person is walking nearby changes everything. 

Occasionally Look Back

While walking forward, occasionally turn around. See how far you have come. This is reflection. If you only look at the destination, you may always feel that you have not arrived. Look back. Perhaps the hill you once thought impossible is far behind you. This creates gratitude. And perhaps humility. Because you also see the people and circumstances that helped you reach where you are. But do not walk backwards for too long. The road is still ahead. 

Occasionally Look Ahead

And occasionally look ahead. Prepare. Is there a hill? Rain? Darkness coming? Do we need water? This is planning. But again, do not stare so far ahead that you stop seeing where your foot is landing. Future matters. Present step matters more immediately.

This returns us to: Learn from the past. Prepare for the future. Walk in the present. 

One Step Is Where Life Happens

The destination exists somewhere ahead. The previous kilometre exists behind. But this step— this one— is where the body meets the ground. That is the present. Then another. Then another. A life is accumulated in exactly this way. You cannot live tomorrow's step now. You cannot retake yesterday's step. You have this one. Place it well. 

There Is No Need to Rush Every Part

Sometimes the road is beautiful. Why rush? Sometimes there is danger. Move quickly. Sometimes there is a steep climb. Slow down. Sometimes downhill. Careful. The correct pace changes with terrain. This is another reason I do not believe life should have one fixed speed. Read the terrain. This is 天時地利 again. The intelligent walker adapts. 

Keep Some Reserve

Do not always use one hundred per cent of your energy immediately. Keep something. For the unexpected hill. For helping someone. For the journey home. This is good advice financially too. Emotionally. Physically. Do not live permanently at maximum capacity. A person with no reserve becomes fragile. So: save some breath.
save some strength.
save some time.
save some money.
save some kindness for the difficult moment. 

Reserve creates resilience. 

The Long Walk Reveals Character

A short encounter can hide much. A long journey reveals more. Who complains continuously? Who helps quietly? Who becomes selfish when tired? Who shares water? Who blames everyone? Who keeps humour? Who knows when to stop talking? Who waits? Who disappears ahead without looking back? Who refuses to move but demands everyone wait?

These things become visible over distance. So perhaps life itself reveals character simply because it is long enough. Time exposes habits. 

But Character Can Also Change Along the Road

Do not forget this. The person who begins poorly may learn. The impatient walker may become patient. The weak walker may train. The arrogant one may become humble. The fearful one may discover courage. So do not permanently define people by kilometre one. A long walk contains opportunities for change. That includes yourself. 

There Is No Single Winning Position

At the end, what does it mean to have won the walk? First person to arrive? Most steps? Fastest? Best photographs? Most enjoyable conversation? Healthiest afterwards? Nobody had to be carried? Perhaps there is no single score.

Life is similar. Money is one measurement. Career another. Health another. Family another. Contribution another. Peace another. Beauty another. Contentment another. No single measurement contains the whole person. 

Eventually Everyone Stops Walking

There is one unavoidable part of the metaphor. Eventually the walk ends. For everyone. Some earlier. Some later. This might sound sad. But perhaps it brings clarity. If everybody eventually stops, then the entire meaning of the journey cannot be:

Who remained walking forever?

Nobody does. So the important question becomes: How did you walk while walking was possible? 

How Did You Walk?

Did you become stronger? Did you learn? Did you notice the landscape? Did you help anyone? Did you constantly compare yourself? Did you enjoy anything? Did you know when to rest? Did you allow others their own pace? Did you create meeting places? Did you walk so quickly that everybody you loved disappeared behind you? Did you move so slowly out of fear that you never discovered your capacity? Did you spend all your breath telling other people how to walk? Or did you quietly put one foot in front of another?

These are perhaps more important questions than how many kilometres appeared on the final record.

What I Hope You Will Remember

Life is a long walk. Train for it. Take care of the body that carries you. Strengthen your legs. Strengthen your mind. Develop confidence through actual experience. Develop discipline through repetition. Develop focus by learning to remain with the step you are taking.

Know your pace. But do not use “this is my pace” as an excuse never to grow. Raise your limits gradually. Understand which limits can be trained and which deserve respect. Do not confuse talking with walking. Advice is easy. Distance reveals.

Before demanding something from another person, occasionally ask whether you can sustain it yourself. When you walk with family, remember that everyone has a different body, different temperament, different history and perhaps eventually a different road. 

Do not necessarily shrink yourself permanently to another person's pace. Walk. Then find a good place to wait. Create meeting points. Allow people space. Help when help is genuinely needed. But do not carry an able person forever. Everyone must eventually develop his own legs. If someone refuses advice, perhaps experience will teach what words could not.

Leave some space for that. If someone falls behind, do not immediately despise him. Perhaps he is struggling. Perhaps he needs training. Perhaps his destination is different. Look carefully before judging. And if you are ahead, remain humble. Being ahead on one road does not mean being ahead in everything.

Save some breath for the journey. Not every argument deserves an answer. Not every irritation deserves your energy. Sometimes: 难得糊涂. Smile. Keep walking. Enjoy the scenery. Do not become so obsessed with reaching the destination that you miss the road itself. Stop occasionally. Rest. Look backwards with gratitude. Look forwards with preparation. But put your attention on the step beneath you.

That is where life is happening. Remember: small steps become long distances. What you repeat matters. A little discipline repeated becomes strength. A little curiosity repeated becomes knowledge. A little resentment repeated can become bitterness. A little kindness repeated can become character.

Time magnifies pace. So choose your direction carefully. And when the people you love walk at different speeds, do not demand that everyone remain shoulder to shoulder forever. That is probably impossible. Instead: create places where you can meet again. A meal. A conversation. A journey. A home. A memory. A moment of silence together. Those meeting places may matter more than walking at exactly the same speed.

There will be times you walk with others. Times you walk ahead. Times you wait. Times you fall behind. Times you walk alone. Accept all of them. The road changes. The body changes. The companions change. The pace changes. But while you can still walk: walk. Not necessarily the fastest. Not necessarily the furthest. But consciously. With strength. With curiosity. With humility.

With enough discipline to continue. With enough flexibility to change direction. With enough compassion to wait sometimes. And enough wisdom to know when another person must walk his own road. Eventually, every one of us reaches a point where we stop. So I do not think the purpose of the long walk is merely to reach the end. Everyone reaches an end. The real question is:

What did the walking make of you? Did the journey deepen you? Did you become more capable? More patient? More observant? More generous? Did you learn to conserve your breath? Did you learn when to speak? When to remain silent? When to push? When to rest? When to wait? When to let go?

Perhaps that is what a long life is. Not one heroic leap. Just many steps. Some easy. Some painful. Some joyful. Some alone. Some beside people we love. And perhaps wisdom is simply learning to take each one as well as we can. So when the road ahead seems very long, do not become frightened by the distance. 

You do not have to walk the entire journey this morning. Take this step. Then another. And when you are tired, rest. When you are ready, continue. When someone you love is far behind, sometimes find a beautiful place and wait. And while waiting— look around. There may be something there worth seeing. Because perhaps the journey was never only about how far we could walk. 

Perhaps it was also about what we learnt to see while walking.