Luda’s Life Notes: May You Live More Lightly and Freely
Hello everyone, I’m Luda.
Today I want to share three stories with you. They are about how we treat our bodies, how we come to understand teenagers again, and what truly makes a “high-quality” relationship.
I hope today’s writing brings you some calm and inspiration for your weekend.
01. The tragedy of Zhang Xuefeng, and my abandonment of “self-discipline”
A few days ago, Zhang Xuefeng, a well-known postgraduate exam mentor, passed away from sudden cardiac death at the age of just 41. According to reports, he became unwell after a run, and resuscitation efforts failed.
When I saw the news, I let out a long sigh and immediately shared my thoughts on social media. But today, I want to go deeper into a realisation of my own.
Those who know me know that last year I attended a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat. In that period of isolation and silence, my biggest takeaway was that I could clearly “hear the warnings of my body”.
I’ve always been someone who sets high standards for myself and is quite disciplined. Before the retreat, I was told that a core requirement of meditation was to remain completely still. What I didn’t know was that this rule only applies from day four or five, and even then only for three-hour intervals.
On the very first day, I gave myself a strict rule: during every single hour of sitting meditation, I must force myself to remain absolutely still, without moving at all.
By day five, an old issue—my lumbar disc herniation—flared up completely. I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t lie down; the pain was unbearable.
In that moment, sweating and in intense pain, I suddenly realised something: for so many years, I had been far too harsh on my body.
Like many people obsessed with “tracking progress” or “streaks”, I set constant metrics for myself: I must exercise, I must wake up early, I must complete tasks. We glorify this extreme self-pressure as “discipline”, but in reality, we push our bodies to the edge of collapse. Zhang Xuefeng reportedly maintained a high-intensity running routine; his tragedy may also reflect a body finally breaking down after prolonged overload.
After that retreat, I changed completely.
I gave up “forcing myself to wake up early” and “forcing daily exercise”. I began to return control to my body: if I’m tired in the afternoon, I sleep; if I don’t feel like moving, I rest. I decided that in the second half of my life, I would truly treat my body with kindness.
I’m grateful I had that painful awakening last year, otherwise the next person to collapse from forcing themselves to exercise might have been me.
Let this be something we reflect on together: let go of rigidity, and move with the flow. Listening to your body is far more important than completing KPIs set by your mind.
02. A 20kg wilderness hike, and rediscovering my son
Last weekend, I went hiking at Wilsons Promontory with my eldest son Daniel.
Before we set off, I was honestly quite anxious.
On one hand, there was the physical challenge: walking 20 kilometres a day with a 20kg backpack. The last time I did something this intense was 20 years ago.
On the other hand, there was psychological uncertainty: 48 hours completely off-grid, alone with a teenage boy. Would we run out of things to say? Would it feel awkward? Would this trip damage our relationship instead of strengthening it?
Unexpectedly, it turned out beautifully. Although my toes ended up bruised from the load, my mind and body felt deeply fulfilled.
I want to share three reflections:
First, parents also need to “transform”.
As children enter adolescence, they are learning how to relate to the world and to their parents. As parents, we must also break old habits and learn how to engage with a “semi-adult”.
This hike gave us long stretches of uninterrupted time. I was able to truly enter his world, listen to his struggles, and understand how he sees things. I gradually shifted from the traditional “teacher-like, unsolicited advice-giving parent” into a listener, companion, coach, and friend.
Second, learn to show vulnerability to your child.
In the wild, I saw a completely different side of Daniel. He was attentive, creative in solving problems, and surprisingly good at taking care of others. His school regularly does outdoor expeditions, so he had far more “field experience” than I did.
Throughout the trip, I mostly followed his lead—equipment, cooking, fire-making. When I let go of my parental pride and allowed myself to rely on a 16-year-old boy, the feeling of being cared for by my own child was both strange and deeply warm. He really has grown up.
Third, be aware of the “island effect” of technology.
Technology makes life convenient, but it also isolates us into separate information islands. Even living under the same roof, parents and children may exist in completely parallel worlds.
When you are in nature without internet interference, communication becomes pure. That sense of reconnection and truly “seeing” one another is something people deeply long for.
I strongly encourage parents to create opportunities for this kind of offline time with their children. It doesn’t have to be a long hike—just time without phones, sitting together and talking, is already incredibly nourishing for the relationship.
03. What does a good relationship actually look like?
Finally, a phenomenon I often see in my consulting room.
More than one female client has asked me:
“Coach Luda, what does a good intimate relationship actually look like?”
Because they’ve never seen one. Their parents may have argued all their lives; friends may have dysfunctional marriages; or they’ve only seen emotionally absent parenting. In such environments, some even believe that as long as a husband is not violent or cheating—even if he behaves like a “big child” playing games all day—the marriage is already considered decent.
This is a very common dilemma. As the saying goes, “Aim for the best, and you’ll get something decent.” People can only move towards something they have seen or experienced. If you’ve never witnessed what “good” looks like, even with motivation, you may feel lost.
To be honest, within many traditional cultural frameworks, including ours, the overall quality of parent-child relationships, family systems, and romantic relationships still has significant room for improvement.
Here is my definition of a high-quality relationship:
It is one where both people can communicate honestly, provide and receive emotional support, without hierarchy, judgement, or constant criticism. In other words, a relationship in which you feel comfortable and not exhausted.
A high-quality parent relationship is not built on rigid hierarchy or obligation, nor on constant closeness. It is like a friendship between mentors—equal and respectful.
A high-quality parent-child relationship is based on mutual understanding, allowing unconditional love to flow freely between both sides.
A high-quality romantic relationship—what we might call a “soul partnership”—is one where both people rely on each other, grow together, and appreciate one another with admiration.
But there is a harsh truth: all high-quality relationships require conscious effort. They never simply appear on their own.
They require time, learning, and deliberate practice.
I firmly believe that the quality of our most important relationships ultimately determines the quality of our lives. If you want a more fulfilling life, investing your time and energy into these relationships is one of the highest “long-term return” choices you can make.
Today’s reflection:
If you would like to plan a solo trip with your child but don’t know what to talk about along the way, feel free to message me. I’ve prepared a “list of deep conversation questions for parents and children” that I can share with you.
Also, whether it’s about over-discipline, relationship building, or simply sharing your thoughts from today, you’re welcome to leave a message. I will read them all.
And of course, if you’d like a 1-on-1 coaching session, feel free to reach out.
Have a wonderful weekend!