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William Zou


Today is my birthday. Every year, I celebrate by starting something new. Afresh. There’s never a time limit to be whoever you want to be. Trust me, you’re never too late. You’re always on time.

At 8 I wanted to be a teacher.

I’d bring my dad’s old briefcase and play pretend. I’d fill his briefcase with books, papers, and pencils. I’d set-up my bedroom as a classroom with one small blackboard and colored chalks. I’d let my stuffed animals be the students. I’d talk to them. I was in my own world. At night, I’d lecture in my dreams.

Decades later, I teach.

At 10 I wanted to be an FBI agent.

You could say that I was an X-Files nut. Every time I watched Mulder and Scully, I’d always want some piece of the action. I’ve even asked my neighbor who’s an FBI field agent at the time for a summer internship. He told me he’d hook me up, but that dream went by too fast. It turned out, guns and violence were not my thing.

So I switched, from that to...👇🏼

At 15 I wanted to be a doctor.

I’d watch “ER” almost every day after school. I was addicted. And that led me to this next one...

At 16 I started working at a hospital.

Some days I prepped patients’ beds and stocked supplies. Some days I did research for the attending doctor. Some days I stayed in a lab collecting and monitoring samples. And some days I spent talking to elderly patients. All of them were great experiences, but none of them suited me.

At 17 I wanted to become a world class swimmer.

The first day I joined the swim team as a high school freshman, my coach said, “You’re talented.” I told him that I wanted to swim for the University of Michigan. But apparently, my “so-called” talent is not enough to secure a spot in the state championship. In the end, it was a just another one of those dream...

At 18 I wanted to go to Harvard.

I passed the first and second interviews, but failed the third (supposedly the last one). Maybe they didn’t liked my answer. Maybe they had a better candidate. Maybe it was destiny. Whatever it was, it didn’t mattered anyway.

At 19 I wanted to be an investor.

I suddenly developed an interest in growing and managing money. I’d come-up with crazy financial plans. I’d calculate interest and amortization values. I’d start analyzing stock charts and figures. But I didn’t have enough money to start an investment firm. So I’ve put this goal aside for a later date.

At 20 I became an entrepreneur.

I met a strength coach. He became my mentor, and I learned a lot. I knew my way around the weight room. I coached collegiate athletes and individuals. It was a business that I’ve built. I was, what you’d call a “fitness entrepreneur.” Then my dad got diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. I had to sell my share of the business and fulfill his dying wish (that was, to be an Optometrist and continue the family business).

At 21 I was a day-trader.

I’d place my trades in the morning before going to lectures. I’d check my bets and would place more bets throughout the day. I was so good that my relatives started pouring money into my pool account. I’d return their interests monthly. This was my side gig. More often than not, I’d contemplate whether to quit Optometry school and just day-trade to make a living. Then one day, I lost it all. I kept losing, more than my initial investment.

Because I was so good at losing, I quit the game.

At 23 I was an assistant professor.

I’d go to different guest lectures at different hospitals in Boston and then teach what I’ve learned to first-year students. My hard work and effort sparked attention from the neurobiology department, and that lead me a job to teach their course for an independent study credit.

At 25 I finished Optometry school.

I graduated. I passed the board exam. I fulfilled my father’s wish. But I didn’t expect what came next.

In fact, nobody would ever know.

At 26 I married the love of my life.


I tied the knot to my one and only childhood love. Like any marriage of course, there had been ups and downs, but I kept charging forward and never looked back.

At 27 I managed my parents’ eye clinic.

Managing people and telling others what to do were not easy things for me. I had to play games. I had to be a hypocrite and a liar. It’s not in my blood to do such acts.

Two years later, I threw away my degree. I gave the business back. I didn’t regret my decision. If I could turn back time, I’d do the same.

At 29 I moved to Shanghai and started working with children.

My heart whispered and I followed. It gave me something to bear: a new life.

At 30 I quit my job and worked for myself.

Apparently, it was also not in my blood to take orders from other people. I finally realized that I am more suited to be an independent person. Someone without any supervisor nor subordinate; in other words, a free man.

At 31 I was an IRONMAN athlete.


I swam. I biked. I ran. I finished under 5 hours in my first race. I’d dream of going to Kona. Then I got better the second time. Then I kept training harder. Then I’d upgrade my equipments. And then I’d hire coaches and consult to pro-triathletes. Until one day, I made the startling realization: I’m merely chasing time. And I was no different than a rat racing measured only by its velocity. So I sold my expensive bikes — yes, plural, three in fact — and got rid of everything else. Victory cannot be gained by winning races. It is gained by owning peace internally. I didn’t want to chase dreams in order to live. I wanted life to chase me.

At 32 I became a self-made millionaire.

I’d spend less than what I’ve earned. I’d live frugally (as a lifestyle) and I’d invest what I’ve saved in appreciating assets. I had ZERO debt — not even a mortgage. I’d pay all my expenses in full, sometimes upfront. I didn’t receive any bullshit inheritance. I never won silly lottery tickets, either. No secrets here, only consistency. The day I made my first million, I bought a piece of land where it’s sunny all-year. A place where my family and I could live peacefully.

At 33 I discovered meditation.

I met my guide, my teacher. He pointed me toward the right direction. And every now and then I’d go on retreats. They have become my “reset” button from the influence and contamination of society.

At 34 I launched my website.

As a kid, I wasn’t fond of writing. But lately, I’ve developed a passion for scribbling words on paper. So I’ve built a repository to house all my work. I’d post everything from experiences to conversations with children to essays and horrible poetries. The blog also serves as an extension to my teachings.

At 35 I started working on my next project.

You’ll have to wait and see what I’m up to.

Today, at 36 I am starting...

  • To prepare for fatherhood.
  • To declutter my apartment and keep only 100 things I need.
  • To improve my self-awareness.
  • To spark more creativity.
  • To laugh more.
  • To invest.
  • To be who I am.

And at 37 I will start...

Moral: EVERYTHING you think is important and meaningful has absolutely no bearing on your future life.

You can be inquisitive about your life, but you must learn to surrender your ego, trust the Universe, and start DOING. Then you will see the immense possibilities life has to offer.

As Mark Twain said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”



William Zou

A disciple approached his Master and struck the following dialogue:

Q: What is Buddhism?

A: Social leadership.

Q: It is my impression that Buddhist followers devote and worship the Buddha, is it not?

A: That is what you see. But the Truth is rather different.

Q: How so?

A: Siddhartha Gautama (The Buddha) set off on a search for the Truth; to know the ultimate Reality. And to self-verify this with his own eyes. He ventured into the dense forests of Northern India. There he came across ascetics whom he began to follow. Soon he came to the conclusion: “These people had not found Truth. They were no more evolved than him.” It is then he realized that there was only one journey that could lead him to his destination. And this was the journey within; a personal journey without teachers, prescriptions, or scriptures. In doing so, he arrived at a place within himself where only few in the history of civilization ever have.

Q: So how was Buddhism founded?

A: After his death, his words were documented into scriptures and books. And while his story is nothing short of inspirational, his message has become lost.

Q: What was his message?

A: For what he found cannot be experienced through simply knowing the “noble truths.” It can only be experienced through DIRECT EXPERIENCE. The man who conquered his mind and came to know his true nature did so precisely because he DID NOT follow doctrine. Yet, ironically, his words have been turned into doctrine.

Q: Hmm...

A: The perception of Buddhism should be Leaderism. Since the death of the Buddha, devotees throughout the world worship pantheons of Buddhas and bodhisattvas alongside plethora of monks, seers, and swamis, asking them for help not only in attaining liberation (nirvana), but also in dealing with mundane problems (i.e. disobedient children or financial matters) in exchange for prayers, candles, colorful flowers, fragrant incense, and gifts of rice and candy. This is nowhere near to the teachings of the Buddha. It barely scratches the surface.


William Zou

My 10 articles of clothing and a yoga/meditation mat.

My 10 articles of clothing and a yoga/meditation mat.


Last week, I spent 10 days in Penang, Malaysia, alone.

I’ve been to Penang before, so exploring and sightseeing wasn’t my top priority. Besides, there’s wasn’t much left to see that I haven’t already seen before.

I just wanted to meditate, be with myself, and spend the rest of the time contemplating about my life.

I packed 10 articles of clothings. They were sufficient. I didn’t need anything else. Besides, carrying too much equates to a heavy burden on my back and shoulders.

I lodged in a small hut. One window, a small wooden desk, and a basic toilet/shower enclosure (the water comes from the adjacent stream, so it can be a little muddy, and, sometimes, bits of tiny sand particles). Single bed, too.

I spent most of the time locked away from the outside world (except on a few occasions when I did laundry, got groceries, and bought supplies for my wife).

I ate alone. I walked alone. I slept alone.

It was magnificent.

It was beautiful being alone. Being alone does not mean being lonely. It means the mind is not influenced and contaminated by society.

I woke up at 4:00 a.m. every day and meditated for up to 10 hours each day.

I also talked to myself — a lot. In doing so, I cleared my interposing thoughts and revealed more about myself.

The more I understood about myself, the more clarity unravels. Self-knowledge has no end. There is no conclusion, because it is an endless river.

I wrote everything that happened on this journal, here. Writing them helped me decipher what actually occurred inside my brain.

But it wasn’t Penang that did this to me. I could have locked myself away in my room at home in Shanghai and have done exactly the same thing.

But I would be distracted. I would have felt like I was missing out. I would have probably gone out and met-up with friends. Watched movies... what have you. I wouldn’t have been afresh and renewed like a flourishing snake after shedding its old skin.

I came here for one purpose: mind and body purification.

It is essential sometimes to go into retreat, to stop the routines, to stop the experiences completely and look at them anew, not continuously repeating them like machines.

Such retreat is not an escape from reality. It is getting in touch with reality. It allows me to observe reality as it is. Such retreat also allows me to breathe, to reflect, and to organize my life.

All in all, every time I go into such retreat, I found the reset button.


7:30 a.m. I took a red-eye flight last night from Shanghai and just landed in Kuala Lumpur. As I dash through the immigration and security lines, my mind is empty — probably because I’m sleep deprived from the past two days.

10:30 a.m. Arrive at Penang International Airport. I’m looking for the counter to exchange some money and purchase a local SIM card. Then off to hop on the bus.

12:00 p.m. At the meditation center. After meeting with the coordinator, he assigns me to a corner hut (kuti number 6). As I expect: it is super dirty. I grab a broom and begin to sweep the floor. Then I wash the mop and start mopping. I wipe every visible surface (i.e. table, window, and chairs). The water looks and smells a little suspicious too. Since it comes directly from the adjacent river, it has to be. But never mind, I just use what is available. No use complaining, right?

1:30 p.m. I’m going outside of the center to do laundry and get some supplies. While the laundry machines work their magic, I walk across the street to the grocery store.

4.00 p.m. Back at the center and I’m finally done with chores. I go inside my kuti, close my eyes, and just sit. Nothing else. If I could hang on for an hour that would be wonderful. I’m surprised the mind is very quiet even after all the activities I did before.

6:30 p.m. I haven’t ate anything since yesterday. I was planning to water fast the entire day today, but it seems my tummy isn’t tolerating well. So I munch on some light snack and a glass of chocolate milk. Then it’s time for a quick shower.

7:30 p.m. I’m doing one full cycle of 60 minutes walking and 60 minutes of sitting. The walking part feels easy. I’m moving as though the mind is not controlling and the body is moving by itself. It reminds me of the time when I go to teach everyday. I don’t feel any sense of remorse, but I have a tremendous amount of energy teaching the whole day.

10:00 p.m. In bed. I’m completely exhausted from the day. Training begins tomorrow.

Total time: 4 hours


4:00 a.m. My alarm goes off. I immediately hit the snooze button. I usually build in some time to my morning for this, mostly in case I want to read or something. But I’m way too tired this morning — probably this fragility has been building up from a few days back, so I roll over in bed.

4:30a.m. My eyes finally open. I head off to brush my teeth and clear my face.

4:45 a.m. I begin my first cycle. I decide to walk across the big lawn today. I must say, standing in an open space early in the morning makes me feel small. As I look up at the sky, the moon and stars make me feel even smaller — minuscule.

6:45 a.m. Spending the next 10 minutes wishing “Merry Christmas” to my Shanghai-based friends.

7:00 a.m. My teacher and I go out to receive alms from around the neighborhood. The practice of alms or almsgiving is the respect given by members of the community to a spiritually-developed person or other sentient being. It is not charity as presumed by Western interpreters. It is closer to a symbolic connection to the spiritual realm and to show humbleness and respect in the presence of the secular society.

7:45 a.m. I sit for an hour. The mind feels very peaceful (even though it’s Christmas Day) and I’m away from my family. After all, the whole purpose of this practice is to develop non-attachment to family and to tradition.

9:00 a.m. It’s time for my initial report with my teacher. We talk for about 1.5 hours. We touch on many points ranging from politics to education. We discuss about the nature of the mind. We also share ideas about my work back in Shanghai.

11:00 a.m. It’s lunch time at the meditation center. Everyone (monks, yogis, and lay people) are allowed to eat meat and dairy. The food comes from various contributors and donators within the community. Today, for me, just happens to be black rice with green vegetables, two slices of chicken breast, a nutritious bowl of soup, and a generous plate of colorful vegetables. I don’t want to eat too much because eating too much will make me sleepy when I meditate. I usually eat until I feel half-full.

12:30 p.m. Going for my third cycle. It’s scorching hot outside so I’m doing the walking portion inside the main hall. Everything goes by smoothly, except for a few imbalances here and there. Not many thoughts intervene during the walk. However, the sitting part is not quite as pleasing. I constantly fall asleep. Every time I do, my body would obviate me from falling. I don’t feel bored, and there is not a lot of thoughts that bother me. My body is just tired!

3:00 p.m. I feel exhausted. My body wants to rest so I take a quick nap.

5:00 p.m. I keep rolling in bed for another 15 minutes. I don’t want to nap too long. I finally have the sac to get up.

5:30 p.m. It’s time for my fourth cycle. I want to do the walking part a little different. I split it up by walking 30 minutes outside then finish the remaining 30 minutes inside the main hall. As I’m walking, I see a monk walking on an adjacent path. Rarely I’d see a Buddhist monk practice. Most of the time, monks study writings from the scriptures. It is also said that 99% of Buddhist don’t meditate. I guess this monk is one of those 1% who DO. Kudos to him.

6:30 p.m. Taking a break to say “Merry Christmas” to friends and families back home. The 12-hour time difference puts me in a position to send my wishes before they wake-up.

7:00p.m. My last sitting session for the day. One hour flies quickly. The mind is clear throughout. There are very few interrupting thoughts, but I mentally note them and they dissipate away. Towards the end, my back feels very painful. I have to adjust position many times. Overall, this is my first good sit since coming here.

9:00 p.m. Going for a short breathing and stretching session.

10:00 p.m. Bedtime.

Total time: 8 hours


4:00 a.m. Time to wake up. I quickly turn off all my alarm settings on my phone. Do some bathroom stuff and get things going.

4:30 a.m. It’s raining outside. I don’t want to get wet, so I’m walking on the porch in front of my kuti. It’s less than 10m long. I start with step 3 all the way to 6, and keep going until I finish the hour.

5:30 a.m. I go back inside my kuti and start to sit on my mat. Throughout my meditation experience, the first sit of the day in the morning is usually the best one. As it turns out, I have a few relapses of flashing images. Often, I mentally note them before coming into contact. Sometimes I don’t even notice that I’m dwelling deeper into the illusion. Surprisingly, my mind is conscious the whole time and breaks loose by itself.

6:45 a.m. Starting my second cycle. This time I choose to walk in the same path as the monk from yesterday. The path is a little rolling so I have to learn to balance from time to time. I’m walking for 45 minutes, and it passes by quick. I hardly feel the boredom. I think I get the walking part — at least. During my sitting, there is a lot of pain on my lower spine. I adjust position several times — even stretch. Near the end, there is pain around the knee. I mentally note the pain and it withers. A minute later the pain re-emerges. I finally open my eyes and gaze at the timer: 5 minutes to go. I stop — that’s okay.

8:30 a.m. It’s time for my daily report. I tell everything what happened both yesterday and this morning to my teacher. We only spend a little time talking. Then it’s time to go back to practice.

9:30 a.m. l feel a bit pinched for time. I won’t make it to lunch if I start another cycle. I decide to do a quick calisthenics workout instead. There are no equipments or weights lying around here, so I have to improvise. Some squats, lunges, push-ups, and crunches should do the trick. I’m thinking about getting a pair of large water bottles today and use them to do shoulder presses next time.

11:00 a.m. I feel a little hungrier today so I’m eating more than usual. I even pack-up some extra fruits in case I get hungry later.

12:00 p.m. I’m excited about this cycle. I have energy from the food I just ate. Walking is just so so; dry with some mix of thoughts. I mentally note them. The sitting part is not as fun. I keep feeling impatient. I’m able to calm my mind but my thoughts would re-emerge from time to time, disrupting the peacefulness. I open my eyes 10 minutes too early and just lie down on the mat to finish the clock. No need to fuss about the time at this point. I know this happens a lot.

3:30 p.m. Up for my fourth cycle. Walking is a breeze. I feel a little nag on my lower back towards the end. The sitting is excruciating. I keep on dozing off with thoughts. I keep on missing my count. I have to improvise. I open my eyes, just a little. I stop counting and just keep attending, not anxiously anticipating when this session will finish. This is the true lesson of suffering. And with all suffering, nature listens to your cry, and slowly, everything becomes peaceful again.

6:30 p.m. This is the last cycle of the day. I’m walking outside since it’s nice. The temperature is cool — just right. No obstacles here, except getting through the hour.

7:30 p.m. I quickly reply messages from my wife (Sandra) to make sure everything is fine back home.

8:00 p.m. I start to sit. In the beginning I’m really nervous and anxious to see if the suffering will continue to persist. For a short time, I couldn’t feel my body at all, like there is no body. Near the end, the thoughts begin to emerge. I keep thinking about the time. The knee hounds on more than one occasion so I have to adjust position several times. At the end of the hour, my body feels like it’s on fire. I remember my teacher mentioned that meditation returns the four elements (earth, fire, water, and air) within the body back into equilibrium.

9:30 p.m. Get in bed early. Feeling a little hungry. I can’t wait to eat in the morning.

Total time: 9.5 hours


4:00 a.m. I hit snooze too many times. I want to sleep more but there’s no time.

4:30 a.m. Regular day in the morning. Practice as usual.

7:30 a.m. After receiving alms, I eat breakfast. I’ve been starving since last night. I indulge a little on some rice and curry chicken.

8:30 a.m. I report what I experienced yesterday and my teacher tells me to keep going.

9:30 a.m. I sneak-in one session of sitting. It feels okay. I have no disturbing thoughts or anything new. Back or knee gets painful from time to time, so I adjust position when I need to.

11:00 a.m. Quite many people are in the dining hall today. Looks like it’s someone’s birthday today cuz I got a slice of cake. Yum!

11:30 a.m. I’m taking a walk down the hill to a coffee shop. I need wifi to download music and treat myself to a jelly ice cream for dessert.

1:30 p.m. Walking around the neighborhood for about an hour. I’m counting this as my walk session as long as I’m doing it attentively and slowly.

3:00 p.m. Up for another sit. Nothing unusual in the beginning. Towards the end, the heat energy keeps rising. It feels like extreme body heat signature. I don’t know what it is, but I will talk about it with my teacher tomorrow.

4:00 p.m. I’m cleaning my room and then taking a shower.

5:00 p.m. Doing my fourth cycle for the day. I’m getting the hang of it again. One hour seems easy both the walk and the sit. A few mosquito bites during the walk, but nothing serious. The sitting part is relaxing. That mysterious energy keeps on popping up again.

7:30 p.m. Walking inside the main hall. Going around in circles beginning with step 4 up to 6.

8:30 p.m. A quick yoga session to stretch the lower back a little. It’s getting too tight down there.

9:00 p.m. Last sit of the day. I’m getting a headache towards the end.

10:00 p.m. Lights out!

Total time: 10 hours


4:00 a.m. Still in bed. Feels chilly in the morning. I tuck back in.

4:30 a.m. Finally up. Get my face cleaned up and ready to go.

4:45 a.m. Walking outside my kuti. An hour goes by quickly. No thoughts emerging.

5:45 a.m. Feel relaxed during the whole sit. The heat energy phenomena isn’t as strong as yesterday, but still there. I mentally note the phenomena a few times.

7:00 a.m. Out to receive alms. As I walk through the courtyard, a bus driver stares at me then he looks away. I don’t know what he’s thinking. It doesn’t matter anyway.

7:30 a.m. Munching on fruits and yogurt for breakfast.

8:30 a.m. My teacher talks about being in the present moment. When the mind is in the present there is no suffering. The moment it creates a past or a future, the suffering begins.

9:00 a.m. In the main hall to do my second cycle. Both walking and sitting go on smooth and quiet.

11:00 a.m. I didn’t eat much at lunch. I have to make haste and catch the bus to town.

12:00 p.m. On the bus heading to the pharmacy to get some supplements for Sandra.

5:00 p.m. I’m back at my kuti. Starting my third cycle. I have to stop midway through the walking portion and stretch. The pain is unbearable.

6:00 p.m. The back pain continues. I mentally note the pain but it keeps coming back again and again. I go through the whole hour, but feel a lot of remorse.

9:00 p.m. Finish with my fourth cycle. The back pain kept bothering me the whole time.

9:30 p.m. A short yoga session to stretch the lower back.

10:00 p.m. In bed.

Total time: 8 hours



At Penang National Park.

At Penang National Park.

5:00 a.m. Wake up a little later than usual. My teacher is sick, so we’re cancelling alms today.

8:00 a.m. Two cycles done. I eat a slice of bread and a glass of chocolate milk for breakfast.

8:30 a.m. Time to report. I mention to my teacher about the back pain from last night. And that it went away completely this morning. I also explain about a moment that happened during my sit this morning where time seems to disappear.

9:00 a.m. Starting my third cycle. I have to do them quickly so I can make it to lunch.

11:30 a.m. Lunch was great. I had some pork and okras with a side of fruits.

12:00 p.m. Heading off to Penang National Park to hike the trek there. I read about a turtle sanctuary there as well. I’m excited to see the baby sea turtles later.

5:00 p.m. Got back from the park and just finished taking a shower. I hiked for 2.5 hours and burned about 700 calories. Not too shabby. I walk to the dining hall to grab some fruits to munch.

6:00 p.m. Sit for an hour. Near the end, both my thighs cramp up. I mentally note them and they slowly dissipate.

7:30 p.m. A quick yoga session to loosen the body before going into my last cycle.

10:00 p.m. Meditate in bed until I fall sleep.

Total time: 9.5 hours


4:00 a.m. I’m up and ready to get going. Brush my teeth, wash my face, and get out the door.

4:30 a.m. Starting my first cycle. Other than the occasional mosquito bites, I walk seamlessly. During the sitting portion, my body and mind feel quiet. No desires. No attachment. No pain. Completely neutral. As if the universe is eternal.

6:30 a.m. On the second cycle, I’m walking inside so there is less distraction. By the end of the sitting portion, the lower back starts to nag again. Sometimes desires would emerge superficially in the background, and, as always, I quickly note them.

8:30 a.m. Time to report. I describe everything what happened last night (the cramping) and this morning to my teacher. We talk a little about non-attachment and living with equanimity.

9:15 a.m. I eat some fruit for breakfast. Then its off for my third cycle.

12:00 p.m. Going down the hill to do some laundry.

2:00 p.m. Doing some writing and resting a little before continuing to practice.

3:45 p.m. Finish showering and about to start my fourth cycle. I must say, after almost a week staying here, I feel like I don’t want to leave. I want to stay longer. This is reality. But, I have a wife, and soon, a kid. Maybe someday I’ll build a place just like this so my family can enjoy reality together.

9:00 p.m. Done with my fourth and fifth cycle. Slow practice. Sometimes the lower back would flare up, but I managed to find a comfortable position every now and then and let the time pass. Doing a little writing before going to sleep.

Total time: 10 hours


6:30 a.m. Just finished my first cycle of the day. I had a lot of interrupting thoughts during the walk. I had to pause for a bit and adjust. Then I synchronized back into motion. My sit was very quiet. Although it felt a little empty at times. There was a short moment where I experienced a glimpses of images, like the ones you see on a movie reel. The images kept rolling backwards and then it disappeared.

7:30 a.m. Walking back from alms and about to eat some breakfast. I receive a message from mom. I completely forget that today is Monday (New Year’s Eve). This makes me think that timekeeping is just an illusion after all. When I’m out here, I hardly care about what day it is. What I can observe is the sun rises and sets. The birds sing just before the sun is about to rise and the insects spawn after dawn.

9:00 a.m. I report everything to my teacher. I think he has high expectations towards what I can get out this time. Afterwards, I start my second cycle. Nothing special during the walk. During the sit, the body feels senseless, like a heavy piece of matter sitting on top of me, and I’m trapped underneath it. Somehow I think these phenomenons are previews of coming attractions.

11:00 a.m. I meet a very nice elderly woman at lunch. She asks me whether the food is edible. She seems a bit sad knowing I won’t be seeing her next week. I just found out that the volunteers come here once a week to serve food for everyone at the center.

1:30 p.m. On my third cycle. I’m experiencing many repeating bouts of the mind attending and releasing to different phenomena during the sit. It seems that I don’t need to note each of the phenomena like before. My mind automatically rejects them.

5:00 p.m. My body feels very dense. I have an unusual experience during the sitting portion. I feel I’m being hypnotized. The mind has no control over the body.

7:00 p.m. A slow start in the fifth cycle. Walking seems dry. While sitting, my body feels very weak. I’m conscious about this fact but I just can’t feel anything. I could just open my eyes and get it over with, but I want to enjoy the trance just a little longer. Suddenly, time’s up.

Total time: 10 hours


5:00 a.m. I set my alarm a little later because it’s New Year’s Day. I get a lot of text from friends and relatives. I text them back. I’m not exhausted. Actually, my body and mind feels afresh.

6:00 a.m. I start to walk slowly. It is as smooth and synchronize as it can be. The sitting part still feels a little sluggish. The body seems to have less heavier feeling but the phenomena is still there. I continue to dive into the unknown chasm. I feel curious what I may find down in the deep abyss.

11:00 a.m. My last lunch at the center. Then I have a quick talk with the coordinator.

4:00 p.m. This is the most difficult cycle that I have to go through. I’m constantly bombarded with projections and desires for completing some paperwork. I constantly worry that it has to be done right now. Even though in reality it can wait. You see, suffering is there both mentally and phisically.

8:00 p.m. As I continue doing the fifth cycle, the thought of paperwork withers away. I continue to sit for 30 minutes. Then I relax myself for the remaining time.

10:00 p.m. I go to bed.

Total time: 10 hours


4:30 a.m. Time to wake up. Even though it’s my last day, I have a busy day ahead of me.

5:00 a.m. I put on my jacket and I start to walk outside my kuti. During the walk a lot of thoughts come up, and I watch them cease away. My mind feels like the whole process is a conditioning routine. My brain keeps on creating ideas in my head. I keep pondering whether they are opportunities or distractions. I just watch myself. I want to experiment a little, so I continue to ponder in the sitting portion. I toss away the touching points because somehow I feel that this whole thing is hypnotizing. After about 45 minutes or so, my mind turns quiet by itself.

7:00 a.m. I take a walk into the quiet woods outside. I hear the birds sing. I smell the fresh morning air. I’m in a paradise state of mind. Sometimes I talk to myself. I create an internal monologue.

8:00 a.m. For breakfast, I’m having nasi lemak and a a glass of chocolate milk. First time eating nasi lemak and it is awesome.

8:30 a.m. I have to finish my last round of laundry before I leave tomorrow. I’m also starting to fold and pack my clothes.

9:30 a.m. I’m settling into my second sitting portion. I continue to use no method and just gently let the mind settle down by itself. I feel refresh and stop the clock at 30 minutes. I don’t even want to worry about finishing the last half hour. I’m beginning to realize this is me actualizing non-attachment to meditation itself.

11:00 a.m. As I start my third cycle, the thoughts do not re-emerge. I’m back to walking with step 6 and back to sitting and touching all 28 points.

2:00 p.m. We change our report time today. Because it is the last day. My teacher asks what is my overall conclusion from this retreat, so I mention 3 points:

  1. Suffering exists. No matter how experienced or powerful or rich/poor you are, suffering is always right next to you.
  2. Thoughts appear and disappear by themselves. We create our own demise by overthinking our thoughts. It is better to breathe and allow things to pass.
  3. Nothing that you do in this world really matters that much. We will all die eventually, so don’t take worldly achievements too seriously.

8:00 p.m. I finish packing my things and ready for bed. Tomorrow I’ll be transiting in Kuala Lumpur before my journey back to Shanghai.

Total time: 10 hours



After the meditation retreat nothing really changes. The tree is still a tree; people are just what they were before; and so is your author. I may continue to be as moody or even-tempered, as wise or foolish. The one difference is that I see things with a different eye. I am more non-attached from all of it now. And my heart is full of meditativeness.

That is the quintessential of post-meditation: the Sense of Meditativeness.

Meditativeness is different from “meditation” in that meditation itself is an independent activity. Meditation in itself produces ecstasy, and ecstasy leads to withdrawal. I care more about what happens AFTER I finish meditation.

Meditativeness is different from the perception of beauty in that the perception of beauty (a painting or a sunset) produces aesthetic delight, whereas meditativeness produces wonder — no matter what it observes, a sunset or a stone.

Meditativeness is also different from mindfulness in that mindfulness is forced awareness. The more one forces the mind upon something, the more it wants to break away.

Meditativeness is to be lost in what you are doing. To be lost in what you are doing is to lose the self, instead of improving the self; in other words, to be selfless.

To acquire the Sense of Meditativeness is to make your entire life a meditative experience. The meditative one continues to laugh with the children and commute on the subway, for he does not cling to mundane achievements. The meditative one continues to require sustenance, to earn a livelihood, and to seek shelter, but he does not allow himself to be identified by them.

In fact, this is the prerogative of children. They are often in a state of Meditativeness. So they easily slip into Enlightenment.



William Zou

Everyone is unique. Different. Remember that.

So please love yourself, respect yourself.

Listen to your heart, listen to its voice, and follow it.

A human being isn’t just a pile of cells, tissues, and organs on top of one another; it has purpose and meaning. Each of us are created to perform a specific task.

There is nothing more glorious following your own voice than following somebody else’s. Conformity only proves you’re nothing more than a blind follower.

It’s hard. I know. And when you do change and become someone who is different than everybody else, they’ll think you’re an outcast. They’ll hate you. They’ll be envious of you.

Don’t mind them. They shouldn’t be jealous.

Some will even say, “you’re lucky.”

Ignore these people too. They shouldn’t have allowed their brains to think you are lucky. You see, intellectually they must have a reason for your success.

Never think someone is “lucky.” Luck is created by the prepared.

What is Time?

William Zou

Thought. Time comes into existence when one begins to think.

Every minute, hour, day, week, month, mankind feels the urge to keep track of time:

“You said you would do such and such a thing at such and such a time. And now you've changed your plans!”

Not that the change in plan causes any inconvenience, but just the feeling that when you say you would do something at a certain time you ought to do that thing come hell or high water!

Yet, everything else around them time is ignored. Tortoises are not late. An elephant does not stop marching to check its watch. A lioness does not fuss over passing anniversaries.

Mankind alone quantifies time.

Mankind alone consorts the hours of the day, the days of the week, the weeks of the month, and the months of the year.

Mankind alone conforms to an appointment book, a meeting schedule, a daily routine.

Thus, mankind alone suffers a crippling terror that no other living thing experiences: the fear of missing out, of time running out.

When you have surpassed the grand illusion of time you are free, right now.