Two months without posting is not laziness, it’s strategic incubation.
After many miles flown, deep personal reflection, and a relaxing day trip to Cold Spring, Beacon, and wrapping up at West Point earlier this week, I’m officially back with more than just updates.
Here’s the story behind my pause, and my human-centered reboot.
“We write not to be understood, but to understand.”
— C. Day-Lewis
Dear Koffeemocha Readers,
You might’ve wondered if my sudden silence meant I’d run out of ideas, joined a tech-free monastery, or gotten stuck in a dead loop of AI-generated to-do lists.
Not quite.
The truth? I’ve been busy making a quiet, yet intentional shift.
The breakthrough came not in code, but in contemplation, at West Point Visitors Center, no less. Among portraits of cadets and a tradition called The Long Gray Line, I found myself unexpectedly moved.
Not by military regimentation, but by the deeper metaphor: A procession of purpose. a legacy shaped not only by what we do, but by why, and how, we do it.
Through the Koffeemocha lens, The Long Gray Line wasn’t about medals. It became:
… A roadmap for a meaningful life, measured not in tech specs or KPIs, but in empathy, grace, and resourcefulness.
… A quiet march toward becoming more human after years of building complex systems.
… A reminder that while we may engineer the external world, our real challenge is to feel it fully within, with all its nuance, contradictions, and beauty.
So, yes, I’ve been silent. But not idle. For the past few months, between Thanksgiving and the first signs of spring, I flew back and forth between New York and San Francisco four times. Each 30,000-foot journey above the clouds became a floating meditation chamber, far from my engineering past, closer to my emerging purpose.
I reflected deeply on a life shaped by tech: how my early career in structural design gave way to relational database, enterprise architecture, cloud infrastructure, platform engineering, and the beautiful chaos of digital transformation. How that very foundation gave me the freedom to retire early. And how, despite the allure of algorithms and acceleration, I now find myself drawn more to the human layers beneath all that code.
Today, my kids are deep in tech. And I remain a true tech believer, still curious and concerned about its growing impact. But at this stage of life, I feel something more urgent: a calling to write about the human side, the part that often gets minimized in our race toward the next upgrade.
This brings me to the reason for breaking the silence:
I’m writing a book.
Koffeemocha: Being Bold in Transition
This isn’t just another post-career memoir. This is a call to re-center our lives, especially in times of transition, not around what we build, but who we become.
It’s for anyone asking:
“What happens after the peak of a tech career?”
“How do I stay grounded as the world gets faster?”
“How can I raise kids, or grandkids, to thrive not just in tech, but in life?”
This book is built from a lifetime of designing systems, and the realization that no system matters more than the inner one we carry inside us.
It’s filled with stories, reflections, and moments when I realized that moving forward boldly has less to do with speed, and everything to do with soul.
Yes, we are now living through another historical inflection point. Generative AI is reshaping everything from productivity to poetry. But I believe we must go deeper than prompts and platforms.
We need a framework that isn’t just efficient, it’s enduring.
Koffeemocha is that framework. It shows:
… Why boldness begins in mindset, not motion.
… How reflection sharpens, not delays, action.
… What it means to take strategic risks while staying emotionally rooted.
… And how to cultivate a philosophy of living that outlasts technological shifts.
This book is not just for today. It’s also for the next generation.
… For my grandkids, who may someday read it with curiosity and, I hope, a refreshing sense of recognition.
… For anyone building the next great thing, but quietly wondering what it all means.
Thank you for your presence in my pause. For reminding me that the best systems we build are the relationships we nurture, the thoughts we shape, and the stories we dare to share.
Thank you for reading Being Bold.
Thank you for living boldly.
Now, I invite you to consider:
What does your next bold move say about who you are, not just what you do?
With warmth and renewed clarity,
Kefei/Koffee in NYC