In the Tea Gardens of Hangzhou, I Learned to Let Go of the Small Stuff
(This May, I went to Hangzhou for a meditation retreat and stayed in the nearby Shangchengdai Village, a hidden tea town. The scenery was so beautiful I couldn't help but record my mood notes.)
I'm a person who enjoys quiet, but on my first night at the Hidden Official Hermitage guesthouse, I was still disturbed. A dog from somewhere kept barking wildly all night. Though it didn't threaten my life, its heartfelt howls drifted through my window and made me restless.
Lying in bed, I told myself to relax and focus on my breath. But somehow, the barking really got to me, especially on such an otherwise silent night. Thanks to the help of the guesthouse front desk guy, the dog was led away. My tense nerves finally eased, but falling asleep didn't happen instantly. I know I tossed and turned many times before slowly drifting off.
That night I slept deeply, awakened entirely by my alarm. Though still drowsy, I couldn't fall back asleep. Drinking in the countryside atmosphere, birds chirping endlessly, suddenly another dog bark—my soul nearly jumped out. I had to hand it to that dog.
I decisively skipped my self-practice yoga and decided to take a walk in the tea gardens to see if I could make up for the scenery I missed upon arrival. The rustic tranquility here truly captured my heart. Even bird calls felt not like noise but magnificent nature-made music.
Streams flow through the tea gardens. When the water passes over different stone steps, it produces varying sounds, high and low in a beautiful cascade. I've heard stream sounds in the mountains before, but this was the first time I listened so attentively and discovered its subtle mystery. I think the surroundings are so magical that my senses became more acute.
After wandering around and returning to the guesthouse, I was a bit crushed again because there was renovation noise—it gave me a headache just hearing it. I couldn't help imagining: if only there were no renovations, how perfect this quiet little village would be, truly a paradise on earth. But in life, there often aren't so many ifs. Since I'm here, I might as well make peace with it. Accepting reality is more practical and saves me from being so conflicted.
Just like on that first night when I struggled with the barking, I'd already planned in my mind: if the barking couldn't be solved, I'd switch to another guesthouse—after all, the tea garden edge is lined with guesthouses, each with its own character. But when I saw the front desk guy's late-night reply, I instantly lost my confrontational edge.
With my long-standing personality, results really matter. No matter how hard you try, if the expected outcome isn't achieved, it's all in vain. Back in my career, when serving clients, I absolutely had to deliver results; otherwise, I truly couldn't face them.
But facing the guesthouse dog's barking, I seemed to have changed. Seeing others' efforts, or thinking about my daily yoga practice, plus this wonderful tea garden environment, I no longer felt like nitpicking the guesthouse or had thoughts of switching. It was a magical transformation!
On the second night, I seemed to have adapted to the barking. At least internally, I wasn't resisting it; perhaps I had accepted everything. After a busy day, I fell right asleep. Occasionally, I'd think: if only there were no barking, this environment would be perfect.
But life doesn't have so many 'if onlys'… It's better to simply enjoy what we do have. Contentment brings happiness!
