Two Years in New York City: Why Being Bold Matters
From 35 to 2: Building Boldness Across Milestones
Why Being Bold
I chose the name Being Bold not because I am fearless, but because I carry a quiet fear within me.
It is the fear that one day my self might fade — not through physical decline, but because my mind may forget who I am. Forgetting not only in solitude, but even among family, when recognition itself slips away.
That fear fuels my writing. Each word I put down is a way to trace myself back — back to 60, 50, 40, 30, 20, or even 10. Writing is my thread to memory, my structural beam holding up the framework of self, a reminder that I have lived, felt, and remembered.
Being Bold, then, is not about reckless courage. It is about crossing thresholds with awareness. It is carrying forward the foundation of yesterday into today, while honoring the vividness of youth, mind and soul, when memory was strong and unbroken.
As a structural engineer by training, I understand that every framework requires integrity. Koffeemocha is that structure for me — the beams and columns that hold my encore life together. The essays are not walls; they are scaffolding, allowing me to climb higher, to see further, and to invite others into the design.
That is what it means, for me, to be bold.
35, 2 … and Soon 40
This summer, during a road trip in Germany, my wife and I celebrated 35 years of living in the United States.
Soon after that trip, we marked another milestone here: two years of living in New York City.
And coming soon in October, I will be back in Shanghai for my college graduation 40-year anniversary celebration.
On paper, 35, 2, and 40 may look like an odd sequence. One signals endurance, another renewal, the third, perspective. But together, they trace the same story: the discipline of day one, alive across decades, cities, and stages of life.
Let your milestones, whether 40 years, 35 years, or just 2, remind you that time is not the measure of courage. The willingness to reshape identity is.
NYC as My Pacing Partner
New York has been more than backdrop; it has been my pacing partner.
Its tempo keeps me both revved up and strangely grounded — like a jazz drummer who knows exactly when to strike the cymbal and when to let silence linger. The subway rush, the quiet of Central Park, the brilliance of the Met — all have helped me shape the Koffeemocha framework: boldness, reflection, risk-taking, and growth.
Let your environment — whether chaotic or calm — become your own pacing partner. Let it teach you when to speed up and when to pause.
Three Essays That Became Beams
Over the past two years, three essays in particular became load-bearing beams in my structure:
“Life Is Like Hot Soup” (Dec 2024): about balance and timing. Too close and you burn your tongue, too far and you sip cold broth.
→ Let your soup moments teach you how to stand the right distance from what matters most.“Three Inflection Points, One Core Principle” (May 2025): about surviving disruption. Dot-com crash, financial crisis, AI upheaval — and still, here we are.
→ Let your own crises become classrooms, and ask yourself: what one principle is carrying me forward?“Not a Vacation, But a Pilgrimage” (Apr 2025): about finding awakening in Egypt when the heat nearly knocked me out.
→ Let your hardest journeys become scaffolding. Sweat and discomfort are the beams that hold up meaning.
Each began as my reflection, but each can be your mirror.
The Framework: Three Questions I Carry
After 60,000 words and 70+ essays, I have learned that writing must pass a simple test. Think of it as the Koffeemocha load test:
Does this trace me back to myself?
Does it give you a mirror to see your own journey?
Does it leave behind something worth carrying forward?
If yes, then the writing has done its work.
Let these same questions guide you in your own milestones.
Closing Reflection
Two years in New York City confirms what 35 years in America first taught me: boldness begins on day one and continues only if we choose to keep building.
Being Bold is not just the name of this newsletter. It is my framework. It is the scaffolding that lets me externalize memory, trace myself, and leave behind something others can build on.
And soon, 40 will join 35 and 2 in this encore sequence. Stay tuned for a short series of essays from my Shanghai college reunion readiness and celebration. Because numbers don’t just measure years — they measure stories. And stories, if told boldly, are the beams of our encore lives.
With deep gratitude,
Kefei — Koffeemocha in NYC, Year Two