Lately I’ve been on a huge writing streak.

It’s come effortessly, and I’ve been enjoying everything I’ve been working on.

However, as I sit here at my keyboard in the middle of Beijing, I’m struggling to figure out what to write next.

I met a lady in the hostel I’m staying at, and wanted to try dedicate a section of this newsletter to her, but everytime I tried piecing together a string of words to describe her, I felt like I wasn’t doing her justice.

Thankfully, after calling out my inner-resistance, I can feel myself warming up, so I’ll give it another go.

Her names Sylvia and she’s turning eighty years old next month.

She told me she’s been travelling all over the world ever since she was in her twenties, and has never once let someone tell her what she could or couldn’t do.

Take this short story she told me as a sample of her character.

One time she found herself at the Spanish consulate seeking a new passport. They tried telling her she needed to wait a few weeks for her application to be processed.

However, she had a flight to catch, and didn’t have time to be waiting around. So, what she did was cause an argument between a group of strangers, divert the attention of the security, and charged into the head office of the head decision maker.

And before she knew it, she was walking out of there with a new passport in her hand, even rubbing it in the faces of all those who tried telling her it wasn’t possible getting it the same day.

She also told me another story about a time she took on a solicitor who was taking advantage of her, and beat him at his own game, with zero representation at court, other than herself, of course.

However, the thing that impressed me the most was the fact that she is currently cycling around the planet, completely by herself.

Hearing her talk about her travels, and still see the passion in her eyes, made me realise life doesn’t end when you get old.

It ends when you let it.