My heart sank as I opened my Chinese notebook. Last entry: October 3rd, 2022. Over a month without a 1:1 Chinese class. I don't think most habit gurus list "30 days off" as a key to success.
It's forgivable -- two days after my last lesson, on October 5th, Cohort 9 of Write of Passage kicked off. 364 students from 41 countries. Our biggest and baddest cohort yet. Not to mention, we launched another course, Liftoff (online writing for high school) on October 18th. I worked 17 hours that day. Hard to squeeze in an hour of Chinese practice when you barely have time to sleep.
So I get why I missed a month of Chinese class. I also missed five weeks of my hour-per-day listening practice (after hitting nearly every day for a year). All I managed in October were my daily Chinese YouTube videos, some of which lasted just two or three minutes. Chinese gets squeezed when Write of Passage heats up.
So this morning, at 6:30am, I fired up my Mac and said hello (nǐ hǎo) to Jin, one of my favorite teachers. How have you been? (Nǐ zuìjìn zěnme yàng?) Long time no see! (Hǎojiǔ bùjiàn!) Any rust quickly shook itself off. Within moments I was flowing. That familiar rush or excitement leaped from my chest through my whole body as we talked about how we organize our schedules. Here's my ideal day. (Zhè shì wǒ lǐxiǎng rìchéng ānpái shíjiān). Have you read this book called Deep Work? (Nǐ yuèdúguò zhè běn shū jiàozuò shēndù gōngzuò?)
I often compare speaking Chiense to skiing. After a quick practice run I was off, flying down the back bowl in Aspen. Whoosing down slopes and carving tight turns in fluid Mandarin.
The fire roared within me once again.
When explaining to others why I've spent thousands of hours studying this language, I always return to this inner feeling. My main reason is simple: Because this flow state it gives me feels unbelievable. It's pure bliss, shredding through endless linguistic powder, reaching a deep connection with someone 7,000 miles away using words that seem like Martian gibberish to nearly everyone I know. I started this Substack in an effort to describe this indescribable rush.
But as with anything, lack of use leads to atrophy. As the Chinese-less weeks slid by, my guilt grew, and my inner bonfire for Chinese lost some heat. Fears and doubts crept in -- Why pursue this outrageous goal of fluid Chinese? It's not rational. Think of what you're giving up in exchange? It's such a steep mountain, are you sure it's worth the climb?
Ten minutes in to my lesson with Jin this morning, those fears melted in the flames. I had kept the flame alive during my 30-day Chinese winter. Ten minutes in, the bonfire returned, roaring higher and brigther than ever before. And so, good people of my new Substack, I once again declare:
I, Will Mannon, will speak fluent Chinese.
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Here's an excerpt from my lesson with Jin this morning:
Utmost respect for chasing that language dragon. That feeling of flowing is exactly what keeps me coming back. At the same time, it’s the best way to connect with people - in their language. It’s a win-win