His diary opens on the last day of the third month of 1613, leaving Ninghai by the west gate for Mount Tiantai: the clouds scattered, the sun was bright, and both the travellers and the hills looked glad. Thirty li on, at Lianghuang Mountain, he heard that tigers on the road were mauling dozens of people a month, so he stopped for the night. The next morning it rained, and he went on. That day is now China's National Tourism Day.
He asked whether he could leave again
Robbed of everything on the Xiang river, he was told to go home and raise money. He reasoned that his family would never let him go again, borrowed in Hengzhou instead, and boarded another boat.
Your project loses half its budget. Before pausing it, ask whether anyone will approve it again next year.
He finished what his companion wanted
The monk Jingwen died in Nanning wishing to rest on Chicken Foot Mountain. Xu carried his bones for another year and buried them there, on the mountain Jingwen chose, not one on the way.
Finishing a departed colleague's project, ship it to his design, not the version that is easier for you.
He knew which night to stop
On the first day of a thirty-year journey he walked only thirty li and stopped because of tigers. Hold the direction firmly; let the pace stop whenever it must.
A fever the night before your marathon? Pulling out costs one race, not the running.
How do I use it today?
Pick something you have long wanted to set out on and never started. Write three lines: how far the first day has to go to count; what would make me stop for a night, and what would make me turn back; and if I turned back, could I ever leave again. He used the same judgement every time: the direction rarely changes, the pace can stop at any time.
