Breathing In, Stepping Toward Wholeness
Meditative Steps: Walking Home to the Self
The overlapping motorbike horns were deafening as I wove my way down the sidewalk, navigating through the flower ladies crouched low, trimming stems and wilting leaves from the bouquets spilling across their laps. Morning haze from burning rice fields near the northern border hung heavy in the air, unable to dampen the ceaseless flurry of activity. Pho vendors were already setting up stools and hotplates, while restaurateurs butchered the day’s delicacies near street gutters.
My early morning walks around Trúc Bạch Lake in Hanoi were the anchor of my weekend ritual. I’d pass the Tai Chi practitioners who gathered by the Hanoi heart sign, then pause at the John McCain memorial where fresh flowers were carefully laid each morning. Afterward, I’d settle into a bowl of steaming pho, followed by a slow, deliberate Vietnamese coffee in the courtyard of the Hanoi Cooking Centre, where nón lá lanterns swayed gently above.
One Saturday, I deviated from my usual path. I skipped my visit to Chau Long Market, where I often marveled at the sight of eels slithering across wet concrete and lobsters swimming in fresh pools at vendors’ feet. Instead, I ventured into the Bookworm, an English bookstore tucked behind the courtyard.
There, on a bottom shelf, I found a small treasure—a stack of used books with spines warped from moisture and pages curled back by time. Crouched down in my best flower lady squat, I uncovered Peace in Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh. Its cover was weathered, but the words inside felt alive: “Freedom is not given to us by anyone; we must cultivate it ourselves. It is a daily practice… No one can prevent you from being aware of each step you take or each breath in and breath out.”
Reading those words was like stepping into a sanctuary I didn’t know I needed. In that moment, I began reclaiming my essence.
Reclaiming Presence
Hanoi is a city of chaos and beauty, where life spills out in every direction. Yet, in that overflowing city, I learned the quiet art of walking meditations. As I practiced observing my surroundings, a profound stillness unfolded within me, guiding me closer to the present moment.
Hanh’s teachings were a reminder of something I had forgotten: to lose connection with the earth is to lose connection with myself. “Body and mind are one,” he wrote. Walking became an act of gratitude, an acknowledgment of the sacred communion between myself and the earth. “The past is gone, the future is not yet here… If we do not go back to the present moment, we cannot be in touch with life.”
Even now, as I hike the land I hold in stewardship, his words echo in my steps. The truth is simple: we are already home. With each step, each breath, we return to our roots, to our essence.
Rooted in the Sacred
Today, I spend much of my time in nature, letting the cool soil beneath my hands remind me why I chose this life. I left the comfort and certainty of my life in Texas to create something new on the rugged terrain of Colorado. Here, amidst towering pines and wide-open skies, I am re-wilding my spirit.
Society often resists our need to slow down, to reconnect with what truly sustains us. But living intentionally—nurturing our connection to the earth’s rhythms—feels almost like rebellion. It’s a rebellion I embrace, even when the path is steeped in uncertainty.
Building this life has not been without its challenges. There have been moments of doubt, but also moments of profound gratitude. The act of dreaming, of manifesting a life grounded in purpose, is like an exhale that fills the entire world.
Thich Nhat Hanh’s words remain a guiding light: “Freedom is not given to us by anyone.” It is cultivated through presence, through bravery, and through a willingness to walk the path back to ourselves—no matter how uncertain or dark it may seem.
Walking Toward Wholeness
Each day, I practice presence. I walk with reverence, knowing that every step carries me closer to alignment. There is freedom in these steps, in choosing to honor the sacred within myself and the earth.
When my bare feet touch the soil and absorb its energy, I feel whole again. The vitality that radiates through me is not just a reflection of wellness—it is the promise of being fully alive, fully connected.
Breathing in, I have arrived. Breathing out, I am home.