Walking Dunhuang with “Heart” — 2014 Power of Walking Moments Captured with a mini X

    In an air-conditioned Beijing office set at 26°C, I often found myself missing Dunhuang, where I had walked for six days and five nights in temperatures above 40°C, covering 150 kilometers — from the ruins of the ancient Han Great Wall to the Yadan Devil City, traversing riverbeds, Gobi deserts, and sand dunes... Words cannot convey the swelling in my feet as I walked on ground heated to 70°C, nor can they let others experience the searing pain of the sun scorching across the vast black Gobi. But I want to share with you, through these images, the deepest insights I gained during the walk.

 

Starting Point Photo Shoot for “Power of Walking”

Resilient plants in the Gobi Desert, a glimmer of spiritual light in life’s desert

    The Gobi stretches endlessly, with occasional rocky mounds standing like solemn “graves.” In truth, the black Gobi resembles a massive coal yard from afar, with unevenly scattered black gravel of all sizes covering the ground, each step posing a risk of twisting an ankle. Our blister-covered feet were utterly defeated in their battle against the gravel, every step a piercing agony. Walking here felt like navigating the desert of life — with no sight of ideals ahead or paths behind. There are many times when we cannot escape the overwhelming desolation; we feel downcast, oppressed, frustrated, and lost... But suddenly, you notice that even among the gravel and “graves,” resilient plants are striving to grow. They aren’t green or lush, just lone tufts of faint purple nestled among the stones, lying low. Their presence lifts the spirits of all walkers, and it brought tears to my sentimental eyes... I could almost hear them whispering of loneliness and hope. Perhaps tomorrow a fierce wind and 70°C ground temperature will scorch them, dry them out, and erase them as if they never existed. But in our brief encounter, they were alive — offering a touch of gentle purple to the black “graveyard,” a streak of tenacious resilience. We all have unpredictable futures and moments in life that feel like deserts, but that patch of creeping purple will remain an indispensable “spiritual light” in my life.

 

Capturing Resilient Desert Plants with the mini X

 

A close-up of a dead tree in the desert taken with the mini X

See the scenery from a different angle — life needs a fresh perspective

    Walking in the water-scarce Gobi, besides physical exhaustion, there was also monotony and loneliness. All around were bare coarse sand and gravel, and under the rule of silence throughout the journey, without strong patience to fight boredom, the already grueling 30-kilometer daily trek became even harder. The only companion I had was my small mini X camera. Its unique wide-angle fisheye function gave the Gobi a different perspective and vitality, and even capturing the seemingly endless horizon was filled with joy. Like a child discovering a new toy, I was immersed in it. The seemingly ordinary expanse of the Gobi, through my lens, could also reveal a uniquely distinctive charm. Life is the same — each day may seem plain and joyless, but with a change in perspective, a bit of distance, or a touch of childlike wonder, if we look with heart and perceive with soul, perhaps our lives will take on new meaning.

 

Wide-angle mini X shot of teammates resting in the distance

 

Mini X wide-angle shot of the Devil City

 

Mini X wide-angle backlit shot of teammates on the move

A long road walked slowly, with you holding hands makes it the destination

      Before the start, a volunteer said, “The people you walk with are as important as the destination you aim for — sometimes even more so.” During the daily walks, I used to eagerly anticipate reaching the end, but the more I looked forward to it, the more exhausted I became. Gradually, as I walked, I remembered what Kun Ge said: “Don’t rush on the journey of life.” I slowed my expectations. The finish line was always there; as long as I kept walking steadily step by step, I would eventually get there. Moreover, I had these fellow walkers beside me — though “silent,” a single glance from any of them was immensely encouraging. Together, we rejoiced over a slice of watermelon after walking 30 kilometers each day, and together we listened to Kun Ge sing the “Heart Sutra” and “My Hometown is Shigatse” under the moonlight on the Gobi.

http://v.youku.com/v_show/id_XNzUyMDkxNTMy.html?qq-pf-to=pcqq.c2c

I became a quiet recorder, using my little mini X to capture Kun Ge’s ethereal and clear singing voice. Even now, when I play it back, the melodious song still calms my heart, as if following the sound could lead me to see my own peaceful self and the serenity of the world.

    Finally, we reached the last day’s finish line, but 100 meters before it, everyone stopped. With the same heartbeat, the same anticipation, we decided to run toward the end hand in hand. At that moment, even the most resolute men had teary eyes and embraced their comrades tightly. We are not alone on this journey, because not far away, there are always like-minded companions, brothers and sisters waiting to hold your hand and give you a hug. The feeling of having someone wait for you after crossing the hill — that’s something we’re all searching for.