Today I bought myself a 15-inch screen. It runs off USB-C and draws power directly from the device, which is fantastic. Worst case, it can act as a plug-in tablet from my phone. Can you imagine? The point wasn’t really the practicality—it’s just that technology still has that effect on me. I’m still a tech nerd at heart. It excites me, pulses through my veins, runs in my blood.

Tomorrow is garage sale day. Time to clear out what isn’t needed, time to lighten up. More than cleaning, it’s about shifting into a freedom mindset. And that’s important, because going to China is one of the hardest things I’ve set out to do. It feels daunting, almost fear-inducing. But fear is often the right signal—it means growth is ahead.

When unschooling came up last year, I jumped at the idea. I also felt that China, in many ways, represents the future of our civilization. Learning Chinese feels like opening a door into that future. It’s a powerful language. Today I had a crash course and learned that the character for “male” looks like a couple of boxes running to the right, while the one for “female” resembles a commando woman with a baby in her belly. Fascinating. Diving into the ideology behind the language is even more so. I feel like I’ve stumbled into something big.

Right now, I’m also in a good place with work. I’ve made a conscious effort to step away from interest. Selling without profit—or even at a loss—has given me a strange high, as if reminding me that possessions were never meant to hold me down.

China itself is going to be fascinating. I’m excited to see the efficiency. I’ve read about how people can buy train tickets in Kunming with SMS, SIM cards, and even face recognition. For locals, it costs 410 yuan, but for foreigners it’s pricier or only available through third-party services. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe I should just embrace the abundance in this world. Alhamdulillah.

Earlier today, I figured out how to remove the metal screen and staple gun the mesh screen. Sitting here in this little 8×5 Pottery Barn shed from the 1950s gives me such a special feeling. A sense of home, a feeling I can hardly explain. Again—Alhamdulillah.

It feels special to be alive, and to be surrounded by such lovely people. I know some of this might read like Scotch-patched thoughts, because my mind jumps ahead of itself. But the feeling is clear: I’m preparing for something new. Living away for a year in a new place—it’s something I never thought I’d do. It’s exciting, nerve-wracking, and real. Airbnb-ing the house, packing things up, letting go bit by bit—it all feels like stepping into the unknown.

And that’s the lesson I keep circling back to. If it’s scary, it probably means I should be doing it.