Charley Zheng

Friday energy, Dec 2020

Portland OR

2. 

If someone had asked me even in late June what I was expecting to do this summer, I certainly would not have imagined myself out here on alien terrain, about to trek over two hundred kilometers across 11 days with 8 others in perhaps one of the world’s more dubious places to travel.

I’m an outdoorsy type to be sure, but I’m not crazy. Yet I’ve come to this far northeast corner of Afghanistan to join an expedition run by Studio D Radiodurans, an international design research agency that studies human behavior one half of the year, and guides adventurous explorers to extraordinary corners of the globe in the other.

I was unexpectedly offered a fellowship to come on board this year’s team of five men and two other women as a photo documentarian, whose main purpose is to capture the entire expedition in a series of images, recording the operational practices, norms, and emotional journey of the experience. Everyone else on the team also has a role to play, from wayfinding to negotiating prices for our daily pack animals to keeping inventory of our water supply. What drew me to this expedition was not just that its timing seemed almost serendipitous (I was contemplating what I would do after I wrapped up a freelance contract in Portland), but because it presented a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a country and culture that not many people would ever get the chance to witness first hand. It’s a place that’s much maligned by most media coverage, and there was more a sense of intrigue, rather than fear, involved in the idea of seeing what may lie beneath the headlines.

1.

Somewhere in a finger-shaped corner of Afghanistan called the Wakhan Corridor, in the dusty warmth of August, I am trekking as slowly as time seems to be moving. A plateau stretches into a distant horizon of vast peaks, as the alpine sun, intense at this elevation, bears down mercilessly. My hands, the only body parts that aren’t covered, are dark and dry, the texture of crinkly paper. My back is searing from an ill-fitting backpack. My calves burn. My right heel, inflamed by tendonitis, forces me into a somewhat staggered, unwieldy gait.

The insides of my stomach occasionally lurch and wriggle from whatever dodgy meat or silty mountain water I had imbibed in prior days, each passing wave of panic producing frantic dashes toward the nearest clump of boulders. I feel heavy and listless, hungry, and angry at having fallen so behind in my group, a caravan of intrepid hikers blazing up and down the steep hillsides ahead. It is mid morning — still only the beginning of our day, really — yet there is far more distance to cover before we can rest, and I’m fighting with myself whether I’m capable of any more steps, much less five or ten-thousand more.

A year ago, on Tajikistan land, and the first glimpse of Afghanistan across the Panj River, which acts as the official border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan. Across that river is a landscape of pastoral mesas and hillocks, placid giants slumbering in the heat of August. At this juncture, you are essentially a hop skip and jump away from what is perceived as one of the world’s most dangerous countries. It can be a stark realization, as you look across to those quiet bluffs, that things are not always what you think they are.

October 2020 on the Oregon Coast

Home.

Same tiny living room space. 

Different furniture. More art. More plants. It’s starting to come together. 

This one. The one that I love. ▪️ And this work: the work of relationship. I feel so lucky to have met someone who is helping me explore, grow and expand into a more soulful notion of what relationships are, and what it means to create a meaningful space for love to grow. ▪️ What I can say is that we have been sold so, so many wrong ideas about what relationships are—or at the very least, we haven’t been shown the full story. Relationships are full of magic, but they are also complex. Complex because we as humans are fundamentally intricate. We’re oxymorons and walking contradictions, though we might not always like that admit that to ourselves. And we each come with our own histories, conditioning, ways of seeing the world, patterns, strengths, and hang-ups. When two people come together, it’s a collision of varying ideals, virtues, idiosyncrasies and follies. Existing meaningfully in space with another isn’t a clean, uncluttered path—it’s a jungle. ▪️ But I’m learning that bravely holding the incongruities that inevitably surface, and working out our own contradictions as we stretch our capacity to love and honor the mysteries of the other - that is the work of relationship. That is love. That is how we grow and find ourselves, and how we uncover the richness and the alchemy behind who we are to each other. It’s how we find meaning in the moments that are not always straightforward. ▪️ Love and relationships are gifts we may chance upon in life—but it may also be that life is what unfolds when we create the space for love to find its way through the jungle. (at Portland, Oregon) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDSiXA1BO04/?igshid=1nsio6pxi2l16

@aaronrobinson is one of the most creatively driven dudes I know: a photographer, creative strategist, and a self-growth advocate. His passion project, the Opening Presence podcast, is a series of thoughtful conversations with #pdx creatives on the creative pursuit, process, and how we make sense of it all.

On a walk through Laurelhurst Park one afternoon to catch up on each other’s lives, we ended up sitting down to record this impromptu conversation - an exploration of relationships in all facets of our lives: relationships we have with ourselves, with the times, and with each other. It’s a slow meander through a garden of questions large and small. Maybe someone out there, in some corner of the world, might find this conversation insightful.

Thx so much for having me on, Aaron! 🙏

Jacob in the Mt Hood Ntnl Forest

The Moon popped up in a tarot reading at the beginning of this month, and this past weekend’s lunar eclipse reminded me of all the magic and mysteries of the Moon. it got me thinking about what the Moon might be telling us when it shows up in experience—how it keeps things half in the shadows, yet illuminates and transfigures the dark.

In a tarot reading, I ascribe a few important messages to the Moon. Whenever it shows up, firstly it’s an invitation into the world of shadow; to embrace the parts of ourselves we hide in the dark. It encourages us to welcome, not shun, what we see as our weaknesses, and to hold our vulnerabilities kindly, generously. We are reminded that we can be complete, even when we’re imperfect.

Another message from the Moon is one of transformation—whenever I pull this card for others, it often suggests that a process of metamorphosis is taking place internally. Most people who have a desire and the capacity to grow are on a journey of truth-seeking—this is the journey of figuring out who we are at the core, a self that’s free of the extraneous forces which tell us to live by the rules of others. We’re asked to question the identities that have been assigned to us, through cultural and social paradigms that sell us on the idea we need to be other than what we are. We’re asked to consider what parts of our lives are merely scripts we’re following, and to tune into those mysterious energies that help us feel truly, profoundly alive.

The Moon also signifies uncertainty and illusion—what we see on the surface often doesn’t reflect what’s going on underneath, nor does it reveal its vast depths. Whenever The Moon appears, It asks us to plunge deeply into ourselves, beyond our reasoning, rational minds, to check in with our bodies and to reach into the quiet intelligence that is our intuition—the well of deep knowing that we all have, which exists without the coloring of judgement. With the appearance of the Moon, we’re encouraged to trust our deep-set feelings and hunches, even, and ESPECIALLY when things are at their most murky and we’re feeling at a complete loss for answers. It asks us to be inquisitive, almost playfully, about what could potentially unfold, and to surrender to life’s inscrutable plans. With the Moon acting as guide, we don’t need to fear the dark.

6.2020

Memory sightseeing: Wakhi horse herder trots across the Roof of the World — what the locals use to refer to the Pamir Mountains, a range of mountains and high altitude plateaus stretching through Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Afghanistan. https://www.instagram.com/p/CAa9KquhOmK/?igshid=ttb0npggvw66

I started moving away from resolutions last year. They’re probably great tools for some people, but personally for me they do more harm than good, oftentimes creating a rigid structure of expectations that box you in your own biased prescription of “who you should be,”  instead of allowing your deepest, most genuine intentions to unfold organically. ▫️ Instead of resolutions, I decided to set a personally significant theme for the year and then allow myself to explore, identify, build the types of actions and behaviors I want to incorporate into my life. Last year was about connection to self. 2019 at a high level was all about growing more into myself and finding a home in who I am. The foundation’s set but it’s work that doesn’t end. It’s always work in progress. ▫️ But this year, I really want to focus on connection with others. It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about—the line between ourselves and others, and when and how they overlap. We live in a world that’s designed to create more connection than ever, yet in scrolling through my instagram feed or checking in on what’s happening on Facebook, I often wonder how much of what we experience in our day to day lives amount to true connection? How often do we actually genuinely feel cared for and seen by others? Who are the people that are investing in us, and who are we investing in in turn? ▫️ I’m not perfect at this. I’m the product of an individualistic culture that prioritizes self-advancement. There’s nothing wrong with that either, but at the end of the day I really believe the quality of our relationships and our connection with others are foundational to our sense of belonging and purpose in the world. ▫️ As I get older and start to experience the slow, gradual iceberg drift away from people, all of us increasingly locked in the importance of our own lives, I feel like when I look back and take stock of my life, one of the big questions I’ll wonder is, “Did we all show up enough?” https://www.instagram.com/p/B7B8vElhqJh/?igshid=yri5wj1xrhwa

“One walks away from an expedition with more questions than answers, and I like to think that’s a good thing. I left the experience not with a bolstered sense of self, but perhaps a more expansive one that now stretches into more directions, open to further exploration. For me this is what defines a good travel experience — when you are challenged to redraw old boundaries of self and look at it anew.” ▫️ Finally put pen to paper (or rather fingers to keyboard) on my experience in Afghanistan with the @studiodradiodurans team. Read the Medium article through the link in the bio 🤘 ▫️ Photo by @mikeheiss 👋 (at Wakhan Corridor) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5dG1yyheGS/?igshid=a4rxgjpxq8vb

Well, just like that, I turned 30 last week. Was it as momentous or ground-shifting of an occasion as some people (and our society) make it out to be? ▫️ Well, yes and no. I mean, the partying in Mexico was certainly epic (and probably the most I’ve ever partied EVER. Hey—ya girl likes to have a good time, okay?) ▫️ I’ve always stuck to the notion that growing older (purposefully not saying “getting old” here) is a gift that perhaps a lot of us take for granted, mostly because of the negative connotations associated with aging. Passing time, experiencing the world, witnessing change in myself and others around me—this is all stuff that forms the wonderful genealogy of life. ▫️ Every year brings more confidence, clarity, freedom, and enjoyment into my world. I’ve found that the less rigidly you think about yourself, or stick to some idea of “this is who I should be,” the more liberating. We’re not static selves. We’re always changing, ever in flux. I don’t believe that we’re ever the same person throughout our lives. And lately, I’ve been really embracing the notion that there is a full range to who we are and who we can be—in my case, from the Charley that’s goofy, to the Charley that’s serious; the me that takes her job seriously to the me that likes to fuck off and play in the world. The me behind the camera and the me that takes a selfie. We’re light and shadow, and it’s perfectly fine to embrace both. ▫️ One thing I want to focus on this year: better showing up for others. Figuring out how to love, and how to give love, not just in the romantic sense. Growing up as an only child in an individualist culture has made me feel like I’ve just been racking up points for myself. Friendships, family, meaningful connections—those are the raw matter that makes up a fulfilling life. It’s these things I want to show up more for. At 30, there is still so much more to learn. https://www.instagram.com/p/B5JbzPohDGJ/?igshid=1kijddg2nylfq

Been away from home for a month to find my groove somehow, somewhere in Central Asia. 3 countries so far, one more next week. Happy out here. As much as I love being home, being far away from home is strangely—but perhaps not so strangely—comfortable. 📸: @daniel.duncan (at Frunze, Ysyk-Köl, Kyrgyzstan) https://www.instagram.com/p/B1y4itaBmJE/?igshid=1vlphubymrn2q