A few weeks ago, I had planned to visit my parents for Chinese New Year’s. Roll in the start of the lunar calendar with a bit of celebration. That didn’t happen. An ice storm came through the area and rendered the driving conditions dangerous. Oddly enough, my area was unaffected by the ice; we had rain and wind only. Regardless, I ended up staying home. That’s okay. Things happen. I went up the following week. One week doesn’t make much difference. Either way, it was time well-spent with family.

Time spent with family is valuable. As I grow older, I’ve learned to cherish it more and more. Counting my blessings, being joyful in all circumstances, valuing time spent with others are all things I’ve been learning slowly with each passing year. I’m at that age where my parents aren’t young anymore, my friends are getting married, my cousins are having kids. Time flies, and before we know it, we’ll be old as well. We can’t keep living like each year is the same as the previous, with the days flowing into each other. Stop and smell the roses. Live in the moment. Each day is a new adventure. Take a break from the monotony of the rat race. Not everything is a competition. If we keep comparing ourselves to others we’ll never be satisfied. The only comparisons that should be made are between who you are now and who you were then. If you’re better today than you were yesterday then rejoice, for progress has been made.

That’s all we can really hope for. Progress. You won’t get to where you want to go right away. Changing takes time. Pursuing your dream takes effort. Becoming a better person takes maturity. One thing I was severely lacking for the first 27 years of my life. I was able to fake it for several years, but the person I ended up hurting the most was myself. A mark of maturity is dealing with your emotions and issues head on. Not being afraid of the truth. But instead, I was acting in delusion. Putting up a facade to hide certain things from myself. I found ways to anesthetize myself. Make me numb to all feeling because my pain was too great. It hurt too much to think about my trauma, so I buried it deep. Something that came back to bite me later on. But we’ve been over this, so no need to rehash this too much.

As an adolescent transitioning into a young adult, I spent a lot of time trapped in my own head. Held back by fear, regret, guilt. I was self-absorbed. I was unaware of things happening around me. Whether it was intentional or not, I was selfish and self-centered. It didn’t matter which one it was, the end result was the same. The time I spent being so self-absorbed led me down a path of darkness. It colored my outlook on life. Family wasn’t important. Friends weren’t important. Relationships weren’t important. Life was meaningless. Just toil and more toil. For what? For who? What did it matter? That was the path I was headed towards. I had become a nihilist without knowing it. And it would only get worse from there. 

I had an “out of sight, out of mind” attitude towards everyone and everything. I didn’t think about people that weren’t right there in front of me. They didn’t register in my head. I was focused solely on my own issues. Which seems to be in line with what I’ve been saying recently: work on yourself. But it’s not quite the same. I was self-absorbed but I wasn’t working on myself. I didn’t think that I needed to. I could do no wrong. All the trauma that happened in my life was due to outside influence. It was out of my control. I wasn’t responsible for the negativity in my life. My woe is me attitude encompassed every instance in which I felt like I was wronged, but excluded every action that I should’ve taken accountability for. I shifted the blame, I called it an accident, I lied through my teeth. There was much pain in my life, but I didn’t think that I was the master of it. The reins were out of my grasp. I knew there was something wrong with me, but I was too stubborn and arrogant to truly find out what it was. When I thought that it might’ve been at least partially my fault, I dug my heels in and stuck to my old ways. “Why God? Why me?” was what I asked myself. Like Jonah, I thought I was being punished. But only much later would I find out that my pain was a lesson. It built character. Yes, it showed me who I was, but more importantly it showed me who I could be.

And that, folks is the most valuable thing you can learn in life. We aren’t robots, designed to follow a program. If you want to change you can. If you want to switch careers you can. If you want to do better or find healing you can. But it takes dedication. There’s no limit to who you can become. The only thing preventing you from being incredible, from pursuing great things is yourself. Break the boundaries that you set upon yourself. Tear off the fetters. Be free. Fly to your reward. Soar above the clouds. You can do great things. You can be great. You were meant for more. You were meant to make an impact. But in order to make an impact, you must cherish what you have. Don’t take the people in your life for granted.

I spent far too long doing just that, and now sometimes I feel as though I’m making up for lost time. I never felt estranged from my parents or family. It was never like that. But the years immediately following my graduation from college, I did not spend much time with my family. I rarely visited, I barely called. There were weeks or months at a time when my parents hadn’t heard from me. I was isolated from them. Partly Mostly by choice. There were two incidents in my life that hurt me greatly, one in 2012 and one in 2015. I won’t get into the details of either, but they strongly affected the outlook I had towards my family. It took a long time to forgive, and even longer to forget. But regardless, I shouldn’t have let the hurt that I felt impede the growth of these relationships. Everyone is fallible. There is not a single person in life who will not disappoint you at some point or another, self included. People will hurt you, especially loved ones. Learn to appreciate your family, especially your parents. They may seem immortal, but I assure you they are not. They will not always be there—their time will come—unfortunately that is the sad truth. You can’t in good faith, continue your mindset of “I’ll see them when I see them.” 

Make time for them. Make time for your siblings, for your cousins. You don’t know how much time you have left with them. You don’t know how much time you yourself may have left. Sick people die. Healthy people die. Old people die. Young people die. It’s the circle of life. We don’t know when our time will come. That may seem scary, and it is. But we can’t fight it. No one wins against death. That’s the inevitable truth. So we must cherish who we have and what we have. Enjoy life to the fullest. And pursue greatness. What else is there? We’re trying to make an impact on the world. But it starts with one. It starts with you, doing what you can to the best of your ability. It continues with the relationships that you build along the way. Your legacy culminates with what you leave behind for those who loved you and those whom you loved. But it doesn’t have to end there. People will talk about you after you go. Whether it’s positive or negative is up to you. Do what you can to better your life, but more importantly do what you can to better those around you. 

Positivity is contagious, but likewise so is negativity. The gloomy mood of one person in the office brings down the mood of those around him/her. But it shouldn’t be that way. Don’t let the actions and behaviors of others dictate your outlook on the day. Don’t let them dampen your spirit. The only things within your power are your own actions, words, and attitudes. Don’t let others set the tone for your day. But what can you do? Find joy in all things. Search for internal happiness and channel it through. Your passion doesn’t have to be just a hobby. You can turn it into a career. You can make it your life calling. You may not be good at it at first, but no one ever is. Inventors aren’t born, geniuses aren’t born, musicians aren’t born. No one is born anything other than as a baby. We all start as nothing. Sure, nature and nurture will have something to say about it once they’re through with us. And sure, we may have an innate talent for something. But without practice, that something is still nothing. 

You owe it to yourself to grow your talent into something. But it won’t grow without practice. Practice takes time and effort. It takes trial and error. I know I repeat myself a lot, but I do so in order to hammer home my points. If you keep telling yourself the same things, repeat the same mantras, eventually you will believe what you say. They won’t just be empty words. They’ll start to take shape and hold meaning. Holding meaning is important, it’s valuable, but it’s often overlooked. How many times has someone told you one thing but done another? Focus on their actions, not their words. How many times has someone told you that they would do something but didn’t follow through? Focus on their actions, not their words. How many times has someone told you that they would be there for you, but when the time came they were nowhere to be found? Focus on their actions, not their words. When you quit a job, how many times were you given The Speech? You were told of all the places you could go, the growth that could be had at the company. But was that in line with the unspoken culture? The parts that aren’t written in the employee handbook, but are still visible in the attitudes of your coworkers? Focus on their actions, not their words. I’m sick and tired of doing that. Are you?

Let’s bring back meaning to our words. Our words hold value. Despite all the lies that people tell us, we’re still conditioned to believe people at face value. Even if they lie to our face, we expect that they won’t. We continue to see the good in people. But should we? We’re left with two options: we continue on in blissful ignorance, or we become cynical and we start taking things with a grain of salt. Or maybe it’s a mix of both. We hope to expect the best from people, but we leave room for doubt. Whatever we decide, it doesn’t mean that we have to stoop to their level. We can start telling the truth, keeping our word, holding true to our promises. We can put integrity back into what we say. There’s a common misconception out there that fear is the greatest motivator; that in order to get people to obey you, you have to manipulate them; that the good guys always finish last. I’m here to tell you that those statements are categorically false. This is what the vocal minority wants us to think. They force negativity, they force toxicity upon us cause it gets them closer to what they want. But nastiness will do you no favors in the long run.

Sure, fear does motivate to some extent. In the end, people will always look out for themselves, and self-preservation is high up on every human’s list of priorities after all. But fear cannot be the guiding force. It just doesn’t work out. It leads to toxic environments. It leads to hurt and pain and trauma. It may lead otherwise rational people to plotting vengeance and retribution. It may lead to short-term obedience, but it only sows bitterness and discord in the long-term. Fear is the tool of authoritarian dictatorships. Fear is a tool for the emotionally stunted to take control of their lives and force others in-line with their world view. Fear is not a tool for the civilized or the mature. We have other options in our toolbox.

Honesty for one. Compassion for another. Acting like a normal, fucking human-being. Say what you mean and mean what you say. Stay true to your word. Hold to your promises. Change the world one step at a time. Be the light for others. It’s really not that hard. You’re overthinking it. Start small. Changing the world does not start with changing the world. It starts with changing yourself. Flip the negatives into positives. See the good in the bad. There’s always something to be joyful about. There can be blessings found in all things. There’s always a little bit of sunshine hiding behind the clouds. You only need to find it. Look in the right places. You’ll be better for it. All it takes is a little bit of practice.

Practice makes perfect as they say. In all things. Practicing to think differently now will condition you to think differently later. I’ve been through it. I speak from experience. The way my brain works now is not the same as how it worked five years ago. No, I didn’t go through puberty again. My brain is fully developed. I simply trained and conditioned my brain to think a different way. My brain may be at full maturity, but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep tinkering around in there. It doesn’t mean I can’t keep changing thought processes. But the older you are the harder it is to break out of old habits. It took me nearly half a year to come to terms with this. I thought change would be instantaneous. I thought whatever I did up there would hold. But that’s not how it works. It takes time. It’s a tug of war between who you are and who you want to be. Some days you’ll win, some days you’ll lose, but you have to keep trying. It’s paramount, it’s essential, it’s key.

I lost the middle years of my life to not trying. From tenth grade on, I was fighting a losing battle. I didn’t understand myself. I didn’t understand others. I didn’t understand my depression. I didn’t understand my anxiety. Nothing made sense. And part of me thinks that I wanted to keep it that way. To some extent. My two natures were constantly at war. I was a bit of a showoff in some settings, but in others I melted back into the shadows. I liked sports but I also liked art. I wanted to be well-liked but I didn’t like being around people. It was always either/or to me back then, so I never understood why I had seemingly opposite interests. I saw life as black and white. But it’s not like that. Not at all. What it really came down to was that I was finding out who I was but I was struggling to do so. I didn’t think I could be all the things that I was. I was spread thin. But that doesn’t really matter. People like what they like and they should feel no shame about it. I just needed to learn to embrace myself.

Learn to embrace every part of me. Learn to love the good, the bad, and the ugly. Come to terms with the fact that I could have vastly differing interests. That I could watch football on Sundays, but go to an art museum on Friday. That I could write poems during the day, but watch gory movies at night. That I could play video games one day, and play guitar the next. There was nothing telling me that I couldn’t be all these things… Except myself. I was my biggest obstacle. Me. Not my pain. Not my lack of popularity. Not my lack of self-worth. Not what I perceived to be poor parenting style. None of these held me back as much as I believed them to. In the end, my own worst enemy was myself. If I had taken even partial culpability for any shittiness that happened to me back then, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

But as it played out, I was lost, with little light to guide me. Unfortunately, my crutch was also the thing that held me back. My crutch hurt me but also helped me move forward at the same time. Puberty had not been good to me. Finding who I was had proven tougher than anticipated. But what exactly were my expectations back then? Without the right guidance, 12-year-olds are left floundering, trying to find their way to the surface. I didn’t have great examples to follow. Even if I did, I probably didn’t want to. I was stubborn. I still am in certain ways. When I was in Jr. High, I decided I wanted to be a rebel. I guess every kid has a rebellious phase. But what happens when a sheltered, Christian, Asian-American teenager living in a rich town wants to rebel? Just close your eyes and imagine. 

It wasn’t pretty. I was broken, and would remain broken for the next ten years. My only escape was music. Scene music to be exact. Ya know, metalcore, post-hardcore, melodic death metal? What people like to call screamo. These bands were the only people that understood me. They were the only thing that got me through the day. The music held me together. But what I didn’t know was that these people were just as broken as I was. With the key difference being that they had an outlet to release their pain. I didn’t. But I thought I did. By the time I got to high school, the only thing I really did in my free time was play guitar, write lyrics, and go on the computer. I don’t even know what I did on the computer, but I spent hours a day doing whatever it was that I was doing. 

I was only wasting time back then. I knew it. I was never going to deny it. But nobody ever asked. I had dug myself into a pit, and I didn’t necessarily want anyone to come in and rescue me. Why waste effort on me of all people? Broken me. Guilty as hell me. Useless old me. Someone who wasn’t going anywhere in life. Someone who wasn’t good at anything. Someone who wouldn’t be anything other than lost. Like Rue from Euphoria said, “I just don’t really plan on being here that long.” That line resonated with me so much. It sums up my whole high school existence. I didn’t want to be here. I no longer wanted to exist. I hated my life. I hated myself. I had a hard time loving myself. I had a hard time finding love in my heart. I had a hard time finding things to love. I went to church, but I don’t think I really loved God. I lived with loving parents and sisters, but I don’t think I loved them either. Sure, I hung out with people in school and at church, but I don’t think I genuinely cared for them. I had gotten it into my head that the world was ending soon. Life was meaningless. In four years, after high school ended where would we be? I didn’t think it was worth making friends at the time. Keeping in touch with people seemed to be too monumental a task. I was putting the cart before the horse, of course. I was thinking about the end of hypothetical friendships before the friendships even materialized.

This was a damning and pernicious train of thought. It was a mental handicap that I forced upon myself. It made me turtle up, afraid to let people in. It made me quick to run, quick to let go in times of hardship. It made me less inclined to truly invest in genuine friendships. I was a mess. I didn’t understand what was going on around me because I didn’t want to. I didn’t understand what was going on inside of me because I was too scared. I was unhappy with the way my life was going, but because I refused to take responsibility or hold myself accountable, I didn’t think that I was in control of my own circumstance. So I wasn’t happy with myself, I wasn’t willing to make myself vulnerable to others, so what did that leave me with? Not much if we’re being honest. I had my music, I had my guitar, and I had my lyrics.

When I was younger, I wanted to be in a band. To be a musician. But people didn’t like the same music that I liked. I didn’t think that they understood. I didn’t think that they would understand. The Anthem of Brokenness was sung screamed into my ears, and my ears only. That was my mentality. How could I be in a band if I didn’t meet new people? How could I find people that felt the same way I did—listened to the same music I did—if I wasn’t willing to open up? You tell me. My dream had been unachievable from the start. I had gotten in my own way. But that hadn’t stopped me from trying on my own. I wrote down lyrics and guitar riffs as they came into my head. Looking back, neither of these were very good. But my strength lay in one of them. But I was too blind to see which one it was.

I wasn’t put on God’s green Earth to play music. I was put on this planet to write. I can see it now, and I think you can too. Some people saw it before I did. My first grade teacher for one. As I’ve been spending more time writing, I’ve been thinking back on things I’ve written in the past. In first grade, I had written a short story about a groundhog. Two in fact! There was a sequel. The teacher had us write stories and gathered them in a booklet. There were two volumes. Later on in elementary school I had written a picture book as part of a school project. It was about a dragon. Early on in college I had experimented with writing poems. My freshman year of college, we had a required course that introduced us to college life. The first semester was a basic orientation class, the second semester we were offered a variety of subjects with the primary focus being: introducing us to other freshmen. I took “How to Write a Mystery Novel” on a whim. Nothing else sounded interesting enough to me. I didn’t know that this would shape the rest of my life. 

The professor split us up into two groups. Each student was asked to come up with a character and make a brief backstory. As a group we were to settle on a premise and to create a plot. Each week we wrote a little bit about our character and integrated our pieces together to create one coherent story. At the end of the semester, the professor “published” our stories, and each of us was given a copy. I have since lost that copy, but I still have some of the drafts saved (paper copies not electronic!). I had come across them a few months ago, and decided to take a read. I wasn’t expecting much, but I was pleasantly surprised. My control of the English language back then was better than I had realized. My vocabulary was more advanced than I had thought. What was written wasn’t as crisp as it is now, but I had a good base.

If I had known then what I know now, my life would’ve played out entirely different. Don’t get me wrong though, I don’t regret any of the choices that I made. My life played out the way that it did for a reason. But sometimes you can’t help but think. You can’t help but reflect back and see the path that you had taken. You can’t help but see the times when you went right instead of left. What if? What if I had gone left instead? How different would things have been? For me, although I went down the wrong path several times, I still ended up right where I belong. I was meant to write. The signs were pointing that way all along. But I wasn’t able to see it. 

The plan I had for my life was just that. My plan. My plan for a life that I didn’t intend on living for much longer. I overlooked the long-term in favor of the short-term. I downplayed my strengths because I didn’t believe in myself. I couldn’t look past the hate I had towards me. My poor mental health corrupted my self-perception. It blinded me to my ambition. What I wanted was not truly what I wanted. Instead it was what I thought people expected. But what people expect is not the same thing as what you perceive others to expect. That is all just empty projection.

Stop projecting, start reaching. Reach out for your dreams, they’re within grasp. It just takes a little bit of refinement, a little bit of practice, a little bit of training. My life, previously unbeknownst to me has always been leading up to this moment. The moment when I became a writer. When I went back home, I was in search of that picture book about the dragon. I wanted to see how well a juvenile version of me was able to plot a story. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find the final copy. But I was able to find a rough draft amongst other treasures. 

It turns out that in second grade, I had made a number of picture books in my spare time during school. In first grade, I had been part of the advanced reading program. As such, I had been tasked with writing a daily entry in my journal for the teacher to read. Sometimes I had written her stories, sometimes I had told her about my friends, sometimes I had told her about things I was excited about or things that I was interested in. I had forgotten all about this. What an interesting (re)discovery. I owe it all to my parents. They’re not hoarders per se, but they save everything. And we’re all better for it. If they hadn’t saved all my schoolwork, I never would’ve seen Ms. Stott’s note from 1997: “Keep writing as well as you do.” Someone believed in me, long before I ever started believing in myself. And that small belief will keep me going. Keep me grinding. Keep me moving steadily forward until I’ve reached my goals, and accomplished my wildest dreams.

I know I haven’t posted in a while. Miss me yet? For what it’s worth, I had this post queued up and ready to go. I had every intention of finishing this and posting it a few weeks ago. But as per the usual, life doesn’t always work out according to plan. Now, don’t freak out… But I had Covid. I tested positive on January 14^th, so this post as well as a couple of other things ended up being put on hold. I started feeling symptoms the previous Monday. Why’d it take me three days to get tested? Well, I didn’t think I had it until I was already at work on Wednesday. And I still stubbornly stayed the whole day, which proved to be a mistake.  

So, what happened? How did I feel? Glad you asked! I felt like shit, to say the least. Now, I didn’t get it too bad. My case was somewhere between asymptomatic and hospital visit. I’m young, relatively healthy, and I’ve always had a strong immune system. So, this was in-line with what I was expecting when they told me the test results. It started out with a sore throat on Monday, on Tuesday I started feeling body aches and alternating between chills and sweats. Wednesday, I started having shortness of breath and congestion. It felt like I was walking around in cold altitude is how I would describe it. Thursday, I developed a cough and my brain started going cloudy. There was not much I could do. Intake Vitamin C, take some painkillers, drink soup, sip tea, get some rest. I just needed to let the illness run its course. Thank God that it did. I’m back baby! Things are pretty much back to normal, although I do have a slight stuffy nose that refuses to go away. I think that’s how it’s going to be, for the time being. I’m OK with that.   

I still have my health, Covid did nothing to diminish that. And now I have my mind back, so there’s nothing that can stop me! I’d have to say this is the sickest I’ve ever felt, although that’s not saying much. I’ve fortunately been extremely blessed when it comes to physical health. I rarely get sick. There’s a total of one time in my life where I felt sick enough to compare to this experience. A few years back I had the flu. I had gotten it due to an extremely dumb decision that didn’t even need hindsight to see how dumb it was. I shared a joint with someone who admittedly told me that he had the flu. You know how it is, we’re young and we’re dumb. We think we’re invincible. Surprise, surprise, I ended up getting the flu. Again, stubborn me tried to work through it. I refused to call out, showed up to work on Monday and Tuesday, and was miserable throughout. I ended up taking the rest of the week off. Now this happened in 2015. I had never felt that sick up til then, or since. Until now. In my experience, was Covid worse than the flu? I hesitate to give it a definitive yes. Six years is a long time. It’s hard to say exactly how I felt. Was Covid equally as bad as that flu? Yes, without question. So, what’s the point of all this? Well… nothing. It’s just a long-winded intro to explain where I’ve been the last month and a half or so. With you in spirit, but not in mind. Stay safe guys, be careful. I still don’t know how exactly I got Covid. I’ve been wearing a mask everywhere and being cautious. Covid doesn’t give a shit! Socially distance until they say otherwise. We’ll get through it eventually.  

Well now that I’ve sufficiently used up your attention span, let the planned post commence. The day came and went without much fanfare like most other days. It was a momentous occasion but one that I didn’t feel needed celebrating. A few weeks ago, marked the one-year anniversary of me quitting my job. It’s not something I would’ve even remembered if it wasn’t for TimeHop. I had taken a picture of the email that was the catalyst. The last straw. That picture was the only thing I kept in remembrance of that day. This is not a story that I’ve told many people (although I wrote a post about this last year apparently). Simply because there never really seemed to be an appropriate time to talk about it, and because the negativity surrounding the incident would only serve to overshadow the immense good that came as a result. Turning a new leaf, starting fresh, starting over. And that’s what I really needed all that time. Something to live for, a goal to strive towards. I needed something to push me.   

And this was it. I’d been talking about leaving this job for years. But it never happened. I made up excuses, ones that I eventually started to believe. I made plans, ones that I didn’t follow through with. When I first started there as an intern in November 2013, I was planning on staying there short-term. Get some experience then be on my way. When it came time to graduate the following December, I realized that it would be much easier to continue on there, rather than to start the job hunt anew. So, I asked and I received. The intention then was to stay on for 2 years, then find my way out. Evidently that did not work out. Life had other things in store for me. That summer, the person training me went on maternity leave, so I was thrown in the proverbial fire. No longer with a crutch to lean upon, I started figuring things out on my own. My growth was imminent and exponential. So, when we reached the one-year mark, things were good. I was learning new skills and being overloaded with information. But I was able to handle it, I could process it. But after my second summer being full-time, things started going downhill from there.  

The year was 2016, and my lease was almost up. None of my housemates were planning on staying in the area so I had to figure something out. Luckily for me, I had a friend who was also moving out of his current place, and was looking for a roommate. It was destiny. Kismet. Meant to be. So I packed up my stuff and headed to Queens. New locale, so it was time for a new job. I took some time to get settled in, then I hopped back on the (job) boards. I went slow at first, working my way up, but once I started finding my groove, fate had other plans for me. This time, my supervisor went on maternity leave, so I was given additional burdens to bear. Consequently, my plans for leaving were thus scrapped. I soldiered on. I continued to grin and bear it. It wasn’t so bad; things could be worse. And boy, somehow things did get worse before they got better. But I guess that’s to be expected. It’s always darkest before the dawn as they say.  

I ended up staying there for three more years, for a grand total of six years. If you think six years is a long time for a millennial to stay at one job, then I’d say you’re right. You’re absolutely right, six years is a significant amount of time. But in order for me to leave this job, certain things needed to happen in my life. Things out of my control. Some circumstances that were downright shitty at the times that they happened, but in retrospect were absolutely essential. I needed to be broken down, rebuilt, and restored. This was a multi-step process. And maybe that’s what I kept missing all those years. I tried to skip steps, tried to jumpstart to the end. We all know that it never works out that way. But somehow, some way I kept rinsing and repeating. Naively expecting a better outcome. But if you don’t have a solid foundation you’ll never get very far. A few steps forwards, a thousand steps back. And that was me for a long time. Without a solid foundation. Standing in the midst of traffic. Easy prey for the wolves. We know what some of my wolves are, I’ve been talking about them for over a year now. But as we all know, I’m extremely stubborn and refused to see things from a different perspective, even though my current perspective wasn’t working in the slightest.  

So how does one address these issues? You need to admit that you are broken, and be willing to accept outside help. It’s ok to acknowledge that you can’t do everything on your own. Just because you asked for help, doesn’t mean that you are weak. You are far from weak. It takes a strong will to admit your faults to yourself and others. It takes a strong mind to alter your thought process and realize that things aren’t working. It takes a strong heart to be able to assist others on their journey while you’re still figuring things out for yourself. Oftentimes we miss the forest for the trees. We diminish our accomplishments; we downplay our strengths and our skillsets. We’ve spent so much time self-deprecating that we forgot that there are things that we’re actually good at. We don’t realize or appreciate how resilient we are. Sometimes we lack confidence in ourselves because we’re too busy comparing ourselves to others. But we have to stay focused. Keep our eye on our prize. Aim high, and shoot for the stars. Set goals that are realistic for you. We have to give ourselves more freedom to live out our own dreams. We have to stop being followers, and start being doers. Stop keeping up appearances and keeping up with the Joneses. Focus on you, and what’s beneficial for you, and what success looks like for you. Doing what’s best for you, guarantees happiness, trust me. When your life is fulfilling, you have something to live for. Finding that something could take years or even decades, but finding it is absolutely necessary. Life is easier when you love what you’re doing. Finding a purpose helps you set appropriate goals, both short-term and long-term. It’s important to set goals that are ambitious, yet attainable. Not end goals, but rather staging points to continuously launch yourself to bigger and better things.  

I’ll be straight with you, goal-setting had always been an issue for me. I was a mess before I started going to therapy. Maybe that’s why I needed therapy. Chicken or egg. That’s neither here nor there. I will never not recommend seeing a therapist if you think you need one. The stigma regarding mental health is lessening, but it is still taboo in many circles. Let’s abolish this false narrative. Let’s talk about it. Your mental health is important. Period. Point blank. No ifs, ands, or buts. Take care of yourself. Your mind is your strongest weapon. Your emotions are your shield. Protect yourself. Strengthen your weak areas. Cut out anyone or anything that doesn’t make you a better version of yourself. Speaking from experience, this starts with your mindset. Continues with the people you surround yourself with and the goals you set for yourself, and culminates with the impact you make on society and the way(s) you give back. Giving back is paramount, non-negotiable. It is a pre-requisite for unlocking greater blessings in your life. I try not to be pushy, but let’s be honest. If you’re not giving back, what’s the point? Big or small, it doesn’t matter. What matters, is the act of giving. What will your legacy be? Do you want to be remembered as the miserly scrooge who cared for no one but himself? The one who took, took, took but never gave? The universe reads energy. Karma is real. That is something I firmly believe. You won’t find this doctrine written explicitly in the Bible. But tell me, is the Golden Rule not a loose interpretation of this Buddhist maxim? Think about it. People who have a negative mindset are more apt to have bad things happen to them. Those who find joy in the little things are generally happier. That isn’t to say that only good things happen to positive people, or only bad things happen to negative people. But you can try to channel this energy. Giving positively in order to receive positively. Mindset is half the battle.   

Mindset establishes the tone for your life. For the most part, things don’t just happen. A glass doesn’t fall off the table unless it is affected externally. It has to be disrupted by something, whether it be a human hand, a pet, or an earthquake. Likewise, for humans, actions start with thoughts. Therefore, your life trajectory is initially determined by how you think and what you think about. Once this seed leaves your brain, either through word or action, you lose a lot of control. The seed is affected and altered by other’s opinions, the actions of others, x-factors, etc. The seed that began as your own has now become part of the world. Thus, it is important to grow this seed and nurture it on your own before you impart it unto the ether. Form this seed with a solid core, a firm foundation. This applies to most everything (ideas, business plans, stories, and so on) but let’s focus on your mindset, and your world view. Your mindset is the basis of your thought process. It takes an objective situation and infuses it with your own distinct flavor. This in turn, forms your world view – how you perceive the things around you. Without a strong base, it is easy to be swayed to and fro. Like a flower in the wind without firm root.   

That’s why it’s so important to pay attention to your mental health. What are the red flags going off in your brain? What is broken? Can it be fixed? Listen to yourself. If something feels off or isn’t right, there’s likely something wrong. Sometimes our bodies are smarter than we are. Oftentimes we don’t like to deal with pain because we’re afraid to get hurt. We don’t want to deal with the emotions because we’re too scared. That’s all fine and good sometimes. We’re not always ready to address these issues right away. But you have to deal with them eventually. Pain reveals our weaknesses. It opens up our blind spots. It shows us what needs to be worked on. Adversity makes us stronger; it builds character. It sucks, I know, trust me, I know. But without it nothing changes. We stick with the status quo. Which can sometimes leave us in a rut. Granted everyone is different. Each person has their own strategy when it comes to tackling challenges. For me, I became too comfortable. What I had could’ve been worse, but I wasn’t willing to take the risks to pursue something better. I wasn’t happy, I was content. But that was as good as I could get. I didn’t know what happiness looked like; I didn’t know that it was something I could attain. I had repressed my emotions so deep that I temporarily removed many of the challenges from my life. But that’s just it, that’s a temporary fix to a more deep-seated problem. But eventually the reaper comes calling. The bill comes due… with interest! The thing you buried and marked as “complete” has only been given more room to fester and grow. Grow into a monster.  

You know how it is. They tell us to be strong, but they define strength as being emotionless, being stoic. We need to be macho men who love cars, sports, and working out. They want us to be the strong, silent type. We don’t talk about our feelings; we don’t talk about our wants and desires. We are men. That’s what they like to tell us. But this is far from the truth. This is not true strength. True strength comes from having mental fortitude. From being who we’re meant to be, and being true to ourselves. True strength comes in many shapes and sizes. There is no one-size-fits-all cookie cutter model, no matter how much they try to tell us otherwise. Each person is unique. We are all individuals. Try to remember that. It’s ok to have your doubts, it’s ok to show emotion, to have your insecurities. Bottling it up is what they tell you to do, but it’s not what you should be doing. The healthiest way to address your issues is to address them head-on.   

But know this. In order to address them head-on you have to be real with yourself. Being real with yourself will open you up to past traumas. It will make you focus on emotions that you’d rather not think about. Be mentally prepared for criticism. It took 22 months of hard work to get to where I am today. Yes, therapy was hard work. It involved sharing personal details, and making myself vulnerable. It meant digging into my past and my upbringing. It took analyzing my faith (or lack thereof), it took examining my relationships with people around me. It took time and effort. But it was well worth it in the end. I overcame my fears, I conquered my depression, I learned to control my anxiety. But none of that happens without first realizing that things weren’t working; accepting that I didn’t have all the answers; and acknowledging that I needed help. After that, I was able to move forwards. Once I got my mind right, everything else started to click in place. 

But like I said earlier, this was a multi-step process. It turns out that many aspects of my life were not where they needed to be. For 20+ years I did not have a firm foundation, and my coping mechanisms were faulty. I thought I had things under control. Sure, things sucked but it always followed a cycle. I just had to anticipate the changes by watching the signs. I just needed to savor the good times, and wait out the bad times, right? WRONG. This type of thinking is accepting defeat, it opens up the way for negativity to flood into your life. It leads to disappointment and failure. This is the sign of a weak mind. You’ve resigned yourself to the “fact” that things will never get better, that you can’t heal, that you’re fucked up beyond repair. This type of self-doubt is not healthy or necessary. No matter how you look at it, this type of thinking will never bear fruit. It is the path of destruction, the way towards implosion and breakdown. Work on your mind first, and everything will follow. 

Once we started digging deep in our sessions, we were able to trim & prune. Separate the good from the bad. Find my true essence. Find who I am. With my emotions locked away for the longest time, my identity had been lost. I didn’t know who I was, because I turned my eye from my pain. I bandaged up my trauma, and called it good. I found that I relied too much on the opinions of my peers. I was too focused on how others perceived me. I let others dictate to me how I should live my life. I had no ambition, no dreams, because my true purpose had been suppressed. My calling was unrevealed to me because I was listening to the wrong voices. I needed to be around others because I was scared of the thoughts I would have when I was alone. In short, I lacked confidence in myself, and in my abilities. I lamented being a loser, for not having the life I wanted. But I never genuinely worked towards it or fully realized what it was that I was looking for. In the end, all it really took was some introspection and a push to nudge me in the right direction. But first I needed to remove the scales from my eyes. See that I was blessed beyond belief, and gifted with talent. Grow my confidence bit by bit.  

One way my therapist recommended doing that was keeping a journal. Logging positivity daily. What went well today? What did I like about myself today? What am I grateful for today? Three questions, three sentences, three answers. A method of bringing balance to your innately cynical perspective. Injecting positivity into the miasma that is tainting your brain. Manufactured ardor. The more you tell yourself that your life is good, the more you start to believe it. Eventually positivity becomes your truth. And life gets easier. Maintaining a positive outlook allows you to take a step back and not be so uptight. Your perspective changes and you start counting your blessings and you stop taking things for granted. Your mind opens up. The things weighing in the back of your mind start to dissipate. Your headspace clears up, allowing you to redirect your focus towards what’s next. You’ve been told many a time to keep an open mind, but opening up your mind is equally as important. For me, opening up my mind brought me back to church. 

You and I both know that I have many issues regarding “the Church.” Many “Christians” give us a bad name. My problems are not with Jesus, but with the people and the institution. For several years, it was hard for me to make this distinction, and so it was just easier to cut ties entirely. The people turned me off to religion, and the institution separated me from the love of God. Sad to say, but everyone has an agenda. Whether or not there’s an ulterior motive is a discussion for a different day. Be wary of the doctrine that’s being pushed upon you. Question everything. Take nothing for fact at face value. The tone and voice of God is distinct, and it may come from unexpected places. But by the same token, the voice of a loved one may be speaking for the devil. You need to learn to distinguish the voices around you. The time I spent away from the church helped me to learn. It helped me to tear down the groundwork and start from scratch. It showed me what was Biblical and helped me separate myself from what was merely churchly. Know this: not everything you learn from church is from God. And not everything from the Bible can or should be taken literal. Remember the cultural context. Somethings can be applied both then and now, but not all. The time I spent away showed me that I still needed Him. I didn’t lose my faith or my belief per se, but the strength of my convictions had disappeared completely. Repairing my broken mind helped to restore my faith, it helped me find my purpose, helped me fix my eye upon a higher goal. 

Once I redirected my focus, what I had soon increased ten-fold. What I thought was the best for me, now became the floor. What I had, was now due to the least of my abilities. There was more, and I could see a path towards it. It became evident that the cap that was limiting me from fulfilling my potential was merely a mental blockage. It was my mindset that was holding me back the whole time. What I thought I knew, was only the beginning. I thought I knew how to manage my money, but it turns out that it was only the start. I thought I was making the right decisions to guide me on the path to success. But it turns out that this was someone else’s path, not what was right for me. No wonder I was miserable. Not only was I at a dead-end job, but I was at the wrong one. I was at a place whose values did not align with my own. That’s a sure sign that it’s time for something new. Time for something better. You’ve gotten to your comfort zone, but you’ve outgrown your situation.  

Time to move on. “Good enough” is never good enough. By uttering those words you’ve accepted your position in life. In an ever-changing world you’ve allowed yourself to stagnate. In MMA there are three phases: standup, the clinch, and the ground game. One matchup that they like to pair together often is the classic striker vs. grappler matchup. One guy is trying to stay on his feet, while the other guy is trying to take him down. Oftentimes when the striker gets taken down, you hear the commentators talk about the bottom fighter not accepting the takedown. They are either constantly working their way back up to their feet or trying to set up a submission of their own. Likewise, we should not accept where we’re at in life. Always look for an avenue to improve or look for a way out. Moving laterally is acceptable if it shows you a new path towards greatness. Achieving greatness, and becoming successful should always be your end goal. It’s up to you to define success and figure out the way there. But you don’t have to go it alone. Everyone has different experiences in life. Everyone faces a distinct set of challenges. But these challenges are not unique. Someone somewhere has gone through the same thing that you’re going through. If you don’t have the answers, it’s possible to find them from someone else, or to draw them from yourself. Maybe you actually do know the answer, but you haven’t been looking at it from the right viewpoint. 

Therapy or no therapy, introspection is critical. It’s another life skill that needs to be learned and sharpened. It’s important to be able to look at your life objectively, to take a non-biased view of what is going on. There’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and another between fact and delusion. Is your life in line with where you want it to be? If not, what are the steps you need to take in order to get there? Are you accepting responsibility for the adversity in your life or are you blaming others? Do you recognize your faults or are you overvaluing your skillset? You don’t need to come up with solutions right away, but you have to at least think about it and reflect. Introspection, in the end, was really the greatest tool that I added to my toolbox over the last two years. My therapist had some answers for me, but much of them came from reflection under her guidance. And with introspection, I was able to better my life. 

Maintaining the status quo was no longer tenable. I knew I was worth so much more, and capable of doing greater things. But I’d been mired in mediocrity for so long that it took time for the notion of leaving to ripen. It took all of 16 months to finally make my way out. But make my way out I did and I haven’t looked back. When I started therapy, I was broken and lost. When I left, I was a new man with a new outlook on life. In our final session, my therapist asked me how I felt. I told her that I was energized and excited for the next chapter in life. For the first time in a long time, I finally had a healthy mind. It took labor and toil to fortify my mind, to build me from the bottom up, to make me stable enough to sustain myself. But with much help I did it. The time was finally right. To move on, to start fresh, to make a clean break.

All those times I tried to move on before, they don’t matter. The timing wasn’t right. I didn’t have all the tools I needed. However, God still had a plan for me throughout, even when I wasn’t listening to Him. Even when I was throwing a daily pity party, even when I felt unloved, He was still with me, guiding my steps. I had neglected my emotions for so long; it was time to come to grips with them and tackle them once and for all. It was time to talk about my depression, talk about my anxiety. I could no longer hide from them. I needed to understand my emotions and give them room to roam, instead of bottling them up where the sun don’t shine. It’s okay to be angry, it’s okay to be upset, but it’s important to find where these emotions are stemming from and determine whether or not they’re justified. Becoming in tune with my emotions was one of the secondary goals of our therapy sessions. Once we accomplished the task at hand, we were able to move to our tertiary target: defining career aspirations. 

With extreme deliberation, in our last ten months together, we were able to determine what it was that I was looking for, what was working, and what wasn’t. We redefined the purpose for my life, and it became clear that I wasn’t thinking about things the right way. Subconsciously I reverted to my normal excuse-making behavior. I couldn’t write until I got a job that facilitated writing. Getting a marketing job would encourage me to write more. I write best when I’m inspired. These are just some of the excuses that I made. I remember in a job interview I had a few years ago, the interviewer asked me what my hobbies were. I told him that I liked reading. He then followed up with whether or not I liked writing, and I told him, “I should write more but I don’t.” I am lightyears away from the person that gave that answer. I don’t care if you want me to write, I don’t care what you want me to write about. All that matters is that I write for me.

This whole time, my calling, my purpose was sitting right there in front of me. But I wasn’t able to see it until year 27. I pray that you find your calling sooner rather than later. But there is never a time that is too late. Some of us are late bloomers. When I was younger, I wrote songs, I wrote poems, but becoming a writer was never an option in my mind. It was something I never really thought about. Writing was a strength that I always took for granted. Not everyone is flowery with their prose, not everyone has a way with words, not everyone can tell a story. Truth be told, I can’t really talk right, I’m awkward as hell. But I can write a kick-ass sentence, and I’m blessed for it. 

All it took was gentle but consistent nudging. Something that I didn’t have for much of my life. All I needed was someone to reveal my strength to me. To buttress my resolve. To build my confidence. To reconstruct my shattered mind. To find emotion. To have ambition. Once all things were in place, only then could I move on. I left my misery in the previous decade. I said so long to my pain. Once I found myself again, I was able to make a clean break.

As you know, August has historically been a tough month for me. One filled with disappointment, regret, anguish, and distress. But this year is different, as was last year. It’s now October, and I made it through unscathed. Hallelujah! There were little to no tears in August or September this year. There were bad moments, but no bad days. I’m telling you, I’m different now. I won’t fall back into that chasm, beating my drum of gloom & doom. I’m a better person, a happier person, a healthier person. A more helpful person. I’ve certainly been blessed in 2020. And although Covid sucks (can’t believe I’m still saying this in goddamn October), we have to make the most of it.

The entire situation was unforeseen, even if you were paying attention to China in January. No one expected the whole world to fall apart. But that’s why you have to prepare for the worst. You can’t always go into things willy-nilly. Balance is always key. Being prepared is essential. I’ll admit, spontaneity is something I sorely lack, but I’m not caught with my pants down very often. Very little surprises me or phases me, maybe this is my cynicism speaking. But I would like to think that I’m very logical and realistic as well. Some positive traits passed onto me from my dad. And I’m extremely grateful for it. Cause although I’m not super motivated by money, I do think a whole lot about my financial situation. Or at least I did. Once I started working and got my own credit card(s) I put a strong emphasis on thinking about what rent I could afford and what sort of lifestyle I could live. I always paid my credit card balance in full, on time. I always set aside enough money for rent. I tried to keep between $3000 and $5000 in my account as a rainy day fund (that cushion has since increased significantly). I never spent money I didn’t have. No one taught me this behavior, I learned it on my own.

Which unfortunately was also the case for most millennials. They never taught us about financial stability or financial freedom. They told us when we came of age that we needed to start being responsible, but they never told us how. And if they did, they didn’t say it loud enough. But let’s be honest, the old generation probably wasn’t told about this either. Life is a lot of figuring things out on your own. Trial and error. College does a lot of teaching you how to discern, and filling you with knowledge. But where higher education seriously lacks is in teaching life skills. It’d be great if we were taught how to cook, buy a house, rent a car, write business emails, be frugal. If they taught us about interest, 401ks/IRAs, or credit cards. But alas we weren’t, we were sent off into the world and told to figure it out. Some people sink right away, while others flourish. But most tread water until they reach a point of reckoning. That all comes with the burden of being an adult. We don’t have to have all the answers, but we need to at least be willing to seek them out, and to keep an open mind.

We’re told this all the time growing up. But sometimes you don’t fully understand what it means until you mature. Keeping an open mind pertains to lifestyle, personality, and desires, amongst other things. But a subtlety that’s often missed is taking it to mean being prepared for anything that life throws at you. It means equipping yourself with the right tools and setting yourself up for success. In order to keep an open mind in every facet of your life you need to have freedom. Freedom to do what you want, buy what you want. Freedom to live the life you want, the life you deserve. To not be beholden to your financial situation, your job, or other people. You don’t have to make a lot of money to not be broke, as long as you live within your means. It’s hard to save money at first, but it gets easier. It comes with the knowledge and understanding that you don’t need all this shit. You don’t need ALL the latest gadgets, you don’t need to buy everything that you want, and you don’t need additional clutter. I’ll admit, I have a lot of shit, my parents have a lot of shit. We might be borderline hoarders. But a lot of what we have is old. We use things until they breakdown. We continue using things that still partially work. I’d like to think that I’m low maintenance and easy going. I don’t spend money on expensive things. I do buy things that I don’t need, but I have the freedom to do so if I want to. I don’t owe anyone anything.

Again, Covid sucks. But I wasn’t stressing during my quarantine. Because I thought things through, because I planned things out. I wasn’t reliant on the $1200 stimulus check. It was bonus money for me, but my life wasn’t depending on it. I was able to survive because I had money squirreled away. But again, balance is key. There’s such a thing as saving too much, just as there’s such a thing as saving too little. There’s spending too much time alone, and there’s spending too much time with others. Don’t invest so much in your future that you forget to live in the present. Don’t focus so much on the present that you don’t prepare yourself for the future. Balance is something I’m still learning. Something we’re all still learning. It’s a cyclical process. You learn, you understand, you find balance, until you reach your next milestone, until your circumstance changes. And your circumstance will change. It will always change. That’s the way of life. Your situation may stay constant, your schedule remain consistent, but only for a moment. Every minute we grow older; each new day is something different.

Since life goes on, you have to always be prepared. Don’t have a kid if you’re not ready. Don’t buy a house if you don’t have the finances. Accidents and mistakes happen, but they are more bearable if you’ve spent the time previously to plan things out. For many, the American Dream is to buy a house before you turn 30, to move up the corporate ladder, or to run your own business/be your own boss. But let me tell you, these dreams are not for everyone. It’s perfectly fine to have your own benchmark for success, to dream your own dreams, to blaze your own trail. I for one, can tell you that none of those three dreams would’ve worked out for me. If I bought a house before 30 I would’ve been broke years ago. I do want to buy a house at some point, but I’m not capping myself with an arbitrary time limit. I do not currently have the means to buy a house. If I were to move up the corporate ladder I would be miserable. I don’t like managing other people, I don’t like being in charge, I don’t like sucking up to the man, I don’t like being responsible for other people’s action/inaction. Really, I don’t like people period. If I tried to run my own business I would also be broke. Yes, my end goal is to work for myself, but not in the traditional sense. I’ve learned through the years that a 9-to-5 is not what I’m meant for. I don’t need to re-stress how valuable my writing is to me. These conventional dreams are not attainable for me, and that’s ok. What’s important is staying true to myself. I know what I value, and I know what success looks like for me. I know what I’m looking for, and I know what fulfilling my dream will look like. Once I began to understand what my purpose truly was, I found peace. And I hope that you find peace as well.

Remember that just because your goals don’t line up with someone else’s goals doesn’t mean that you’re on a lower level than them. You’re not on a different tier. Your dream is not any less legitimate. Don’t ever think that you’re lesser or that your dream is inferior. You’re slaying it. I know you are. Take back control. Step out of someone else’s shadow and pave your own way. Don’t live your parents’ dream for you. Don’t cater to your friend’s aspirations. Live your life as it’s meant to be lived. Stay true to yourself. Wholly dedicated to your ambition, and your ambition alone. But hear me when I say this. This does not mean getting what’s yours at whatever the cost. It means putting the work in to get what you want, but not being an asshole in doing so. It means not shitting on other’s dreams in order to build yourself up. It means not blocking someone else’s pursuits. We as humans are meant to work together, we can’t do everything on our own. There’s a lot more for us to learn, and a lot of this can be learned together. So be willing to accept help. Be willing to offer help. Be willing to acknowledge that sometimes you don’t have the answers, and be content with that. You don’t need to have all the answers. You won’t ever have all the answers. But know that we’re in this together. We’re here to build a better world for the future.

Each person plays a different role. Each individual has their own unique strengths and weaknesses. What’s beneficial for you may not be what’s beneficial for me, and vice versa. It’s thus our duty to pass on what we know, in hopes that someone else benefits from our experience. There isn’t one right way to live. We are not robots. Each person has their own nuanced way of thinking. Their own habits, their own interests, their own desires. That being said, don’t let anyone dampen your individuality. Don’t be afraid to be you. That’s something that took me a long time to learn. I was always so afraid of what people thought about me or worrying about being judged. But at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter. You learn from your mistakes and you move on. There’s no need to dwell on something embarrassing that happened years ago. There’s no reason to focus on stupid things you’ve said, or things you’ve done in anger. We live in the present, and we reminisce on the past. But we do not live in the past, devoting our attention to memories of former glory. Remember what I said in a previous post? We’re on an upwards trajectory, and with that we look ahead, we do not look behind.

Behind me is my depression. Behind me is my anxiety. Behind me is my fear of living up. Behind me are expectations that people had for me. Behind me is brokenness. But most importantly behind me is lack of confidence and self-love. I know what my worth is. I know my purpose. I know what my skillset is. My healing has come, and I’m ready to move onwards. No more wallowing, no more feeling sorry for myself. And with confidence, comes knowledge that I’m meant for so much more. I’m more than capable of pursuing and fulfilling my dreams. And to be quite honest, for a long time I had forgotten how to dream, I didn’t think I was allowed to. I thought dreams were just for kids. But that’s a lie from the devil. A lie told to minimize your productivity, to limit you from reaching your potential. You should always strive for something better, always strive for something more.

That’s why I can say with confidence that 2020 is still my year, it’s still your year, it’s still our year. Although things have not happened as expected, some good has still come out of this unprecedented situation. I’ve committed to my writing, I left a toxic work environment, I graduated from therapy, I learned to love myself. And I can only begin to tell you how critical all of this was to my development. In my writing, I found a goal, I found the drive that I felt I was so sorely lacking. I found satisfaction, I found fulfillment. In leaving my previous job, I achieved the following: ridding myself of excessive stress and aggravation; removing myself from the controlling grip of an impossible boss; freeing my mind from stewing negativity and bitterness; and reversing from a dead-end where I felt stuck. There were many valuable lessons I learned from therapy, so I won’t definitively state that one was most important. Each lesson has helped me in different ways. At the very least I will say that this one was vital: I learned to redefine my center line. I refocused my base. Instead of starting my days frustrated, and stacking annoyances, I was told to set my base at 0, and return to my centerline. This helped greatly in changing my thought process and my mind state. It helped me to evaluate my life in a different manner. No longer was I living a bad life or leading a shitty existence. I was now having a bad day in an otherwise great month, great year, great life. And that little distinction, that redefining means everything. It’s mind-blowing, it upends your world.

And it leads to other revelations, and a better understanding of yourself. I stopped being dependent on other people, I stopped seeking validation in others. Their opinions of me stopped mattering. Cause people will think what they want to think, they’re going to act how they want to act, they’re going to see what they want to see. There’s no changing that. You can try to influence your peers but there’s no guarantee that they will listen to you, let alone obey you. As such, the only thing you can control is yourself: your words, your thoughts, your actions, your reactions. I can say with conviction that confidence and self-love are the keys to living up to your fullest potential. Knowing your purpose frees you from the yoke of meeting other’s expectations. Having a healthy mind pays dividends in finding comfort for your soul. Knowing what you want in life prevents you from living every day on repeat. Stop going through the motions, there are brighter days ahead. There’s plenty to look forward to. 

And with that knowledge, there came another great realization for me. Seeking validation from those around me was more detrimental to me than I had ever imagined. Seeking validation prevented me from dreaming, from healing, from searching. Validation held me back, it made me fear missing out. It was like a leash pulling me here and there. It was my control. I let validation and FOMO drag me around because I wasn’t happy with myself. I didn’t want to be left behind because I feared the dark thoughts I had on my own. I feared the negativity in my mind. I feared the shadow of unchecked emotion that was hiding inside. I feared the collision of my mind and my heart. The pent up angst, the unbridled rage, the unresolved decades of hurt. So I locked it in a box, hidden behind all the haze. And soon, I forgot who I was.

My expectations became their expectations, my pursuits became synonymous with their pursuits. And that is why I was in a rut for so long. I was in a true downturn in my life. Bogged down by negativity and nihilism. My life felt worthless, and let’s be honest, it was worthless. I wasn’t living how I wanted to live, but I didn’t know how to do better, I didn’t know how to heal. I was always trying to please my parents or my friends, my work or the church. But what did I want for myself? What did I truly desire? I didn’t know, because I wasn’t in tune with my emotions. I ignored my mental well-being because I wanted validation. But I don’t need it, you don’t need it. Find your true purpose, find your true calling, and pursue it for as long as you have the desire, the passion. Once the passion fades, it’s onto something new. Onwards and upwards. No Mo FOMO. Brighter days ahead.

It is finally done. It only took 409 days, but it is complete. I have finished listening to The Wheel of Time on audiobook. What an experience. It was well worth the almost 450 hours that I spent listening to it. I probably could’ve read the series in less than half the time, but I have to admit that I was intimidated. Fourteen volumes. One of the greatest fantasy series of all time. A modern day classic. I had tried to start them several times, but for whatever reason, I was not able to get into them. I guess part of it was knowing that reading this would be a big commitment. I’m the type of reader who likes to read a series from start to finish if it isn’t still ongoing. There’s just too much going on in fantasy novels for you to jump back and forth from multiple worlds. I do have a habit of reading multiple books at once, but no more than four or five at once, and no more than two or three epic fantasies. Otherwise, it’s too overwhelming, too confusing, what have you.

That being said, listening to audiobooks is a new medium that I want to get into. But they are so damn expensive. An Audible subscription is $15 a month, an individual audiobook is $45-50 each. I just don’t have that type of money to throw away especially considering e-books generally cost no more than $8. Plus Audible limits the amount of books you can listen to each month, and the version offered with Prime has a small rotating selection of free books. I don’t want that type of restriction. I do have the Dark Tower audiobook files so that will be next after I listen to the WOT prequel. I’ll have to figure out what I want to do after that though. My logic behind listening to audiobooks is two-fold. There’s a lot of wasted time throughout the day such as when you’re driving, or when you’re playing a mobile game. And it’s much easier to multitask listening to a book as opposed to reading it.

The auditory voyage began last year, the week before Memorial Day. We were going to Montréal to visit our extended family. My parents and my sisters had taken a day or two off of work and were driving up from Massachusetts. I had a solo drive from Long Island. Due to the trouble I was having beginning the series, I planned on listening to the first book to “jump start my interest,” and afterward intended to read the e-books. This never materialized. At some point I decided to forego reading, and just listen to the entire series. I fell in love with the world, and the characters, in a way that I don’t think would’ve been possible without the superb narration and storytelling. I could strongly visualize each description, and event. Don’t get me wrong, I still love reading traditionally, but audio reading is a completely different experience. Some stories are just too rich, too dense to digest fully via text alone. A significant part of reading is comprehending the words that you’re feeding into your mind. This facet is not as involved in audio form. Many of the novels I read are not anywhere near as elaborate as WOT, ASOIAF, and the like. And with how expensive audiobooks are, I will not be spending heavily in this area. But to maximize the value of my dollar and to get the most fulfilling experience, I will find a way to acquire audiobooks for a number of the most comprehensive sagas.

I’ve occasionally referred to the last 7 years of my life as a fantastical journey. It began when I started reading Game of Thrones for the first time, and I feel it will continue on until the day I die. That’s what reading is for me. It’s part of my lifestyle. There is no end. I don’t foresee a time when I stop reading completely. There are new worlds to explore, new conflicts to spectate. New writers and old writers to discover. Escapism in portable form. One of the wrongest statements my mom ever made was, “people don’t really read anymore,” in response to me telling her that I wanted to become a writer. Writing, world building for me is still a work in progress. I’m still in the brainstorming, infancy stages. An ignorant, insensitive statement won’t stop me from pursuing my dream though. I will one day become a published fantasy author. I am willing it into existence. It will happen, because I will make it happen. And I’m not doing it for fame or notoriety or money. I’m doing it because it’s how I want to, and how I know I will make an impact. So what does that look like? It requires me to write, to read, to think, to research.

Without sounding like a broken record, out of those four aspects, writing has for years, been my biggest weakness. I made excuses instead of making content. I gave reasons for not writing, instead of actually writing. That’s as much as I’ll say about that, without repeating myself too much. The other three all go hand in hand. In order to gather ideas, to brainstorm plot & device, it involves reading, it involves thinking, it involves research. Someone recently asked me if I had given up on my novel. But it’s not like that at all. I have a premise, I have a few characters, I have a setting, and I have loose ideas. The glue is not yet there, nor is the meat of the story. But it doesn’t mean I’ve given up. Giving up sounds too much like finality. But how can we call the story finished when it’s barely just begun? It may take years, it may take decades, but I will help birth this tale, no matter the cost.

So for right now, I have taken a step back. I’ve been a step back for the last three months, but it doesn’t mean I’ve been wasting my time. I’m gathering info, I’m gaining inspiration, I’m bouncing ideas in my head. What character archetypes do I want to use? What real life cultural influences am I drawing from? What is the conflict? Who are the factions? These are a few of the many questions that I need to consider. Research must be done, especially for historical and/or societal texture. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun while conducting my research. Inspiration for stories, for new worlds, comes from everywhere, ranging from everyday life, to books, to movies, to videogames, to history. So for now, I am gathering information and making mental notes.

And that, like much of the rest of my life, is a subtle but major change that occurred in the last two years. Fear has played a significant role in my life throughout the years. One of the ways it revealed itself was in my decision making, especially when it came to reading selection or meal choice. I was always afraid of being disappointed, and thus would hold myself back from trying certain things. Your fear of disappointment is directly proportionate to the amount of risk-taking you inhibit. And boy, I can tell you, I blatantly obstructed any thrill-seeking. I used to say that I was spontaneous and adventurous, but that was far from the truth. I’m working on that, and I’m better about it now. But like many things, it’s still a work in progress. One way that I’ve progressed is in the type of fiction that I read.

For years, I’ve been hesitant to try new authors or different genres. But in order for my stories to be as immersive and complete as possible, I need outside influence. I need to explore my surroundings. Take in more of what I see, what I read, what I hear. Genre in a way is a binding concept. It sets expectations for outside consumers. If you like this, you will probably like that. It has its positives and its negatives. Yes, it promotes clearer organization, it helps to classify like items. But don’t let it paint you into a corner. Don’t let it trap you, and prevent your story from flowing naturally. There is much disparity within genres. Nothing is homogenous. Each author has their own take on many of the same tropes. Each author has their own style, and each individual sees the world differently. That is the basis of humanity. We have free will. We are not robots. That being said, why should our writing be robotic? Why does it need to be formulaic? Why does it need to fit in a box? Writing is an artistic expression of humanity. In order for your writing to be genuine, you need to let it flow. Let what’s important to you invigorate your stories. Let your passions show through. Don’t be afraid to genre bend.

Earlier in the year, I decided that I wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. That starts with risk-taking. That starts small. That starts with a conscious thought to try different things. To not be afraid of being disappointed by a new author. Nobody is telling me that I have to like every book I read. I don’t have to finish every book that I start. If something dissatisfies, it’s okay to let go, and move on. Log it in my mind to skip that author next time. After all, I won’t know if I like them, until I try. I do know that I can’t just continue with the status quo. If I truly want the lessons I’ve learned in therapy to take root, some change needs to occur. It doesn’t need to be wide scale or wholesale, but something needs to happen. It’s good to try new things, and to broaden your experiences. So instead of the same old epic fantasy or sword & sorcery, I’ve been checking out various things. After all there’s a lot more to unearth in speculative fiction. There’s sci-fi, horror, dystopian, slice-of-life. Some of it is nuanced, but some of it is as different as left is from right. Broad scopes, different strokes. There’s a lot to draw from. Magnum opuses from different mediums, different times.

That being said, I want to devote more time to reading classics. Literary giants like Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, William Faulkner. Feminist literature such as Jane Austen, Charlotte Brontë, Virginia Woolf. I want to consume more sci-fi and urban fantasy. And most importantly go back to the 80s and 90s to explore the fantasy landscapes that I’ve been too afraid to traverse. To visit Discworld, Malazan, Ere, Osten Ard. I’m no longer dominated by fear. I’m no longer dominated by intimidation. For my world to thrive, I have to constantly take in more from things around me. Build from the bottom up. Some authors can create multiple universes. Jump from story to story. A quick in and out. Enclosed stories within limited worlds. But that ain’t me. I’m a one world type of guy. I have a grand vision. A universe existent in my mind. The pieces of the puzzle are lying within. All I need to do is uncover them.

So I will range far and wide to find the perfect elements to incorporate. I will weave and build and create a masterpiece. I expect nothing less. The building blocks are there. The influences are there for me to uncover. It will be a monstrous task. But I need to look within. Gather from without. Weave, craft, and work some magic. It’s a coming, and it may be slow. But somehow, some way, some day, the stories in my mind will come to life. They tell you in school to let your imagination run wild. And truth be told, that’s never been an issue for me. The issue has always been making good use of it. Being productive. Not being stagnant or apathetic. Using my God-given ability to create things that I’m proud of. I didn’t always know it, but I was meant to be a creator. I’m meant to be a builder of worlds. A dreamweaver. I’m waiting patiently for my own Big Bang. Crafting it slowly. Years of thinking, years of processing will one day culminate in a great work of art that I will be immensely proud of. You best believe it. The mind of Justin will be epic. Work needs to be done for my ideas to come to fruition. But one day, my story will be complete, and I will be pleased to share it with the world around me.

 

You know that thing your parents and your teachers used to tell you? “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” Well, you can replace the word “nice” with quite a number of different words. Today, I will use the word “constructive.” Constructive: serving a useful purpose. Before I begin, let me preface this by saying I am not bashing, hating on, or criticizing your efforts. I’m not sub-posting or targeting anyone. I’m writing from the heart, writing what’s been on my mind lately. Unless you’ve been vacationing on another planet or living under a rock, you know what’s been going on in recent days, so I’m not going to rehash it. In response to the protests and the BLM movement I’ve seen numerous posts from white individuals and non-black POC starting with, “I’ve been struggling to think of the words to say,” or “I don’t know what to say,” or something along those lines. It was touching and endearing at first, coming from celebrities realizing that they are extremely blessed and have the opportunity to use their platform to promote change, growth, and equality. But honestly, I’ve gotten quite sick of it. If it’s taken you two plus weeks to think of the words to say, then maybe words didn’t need to be spoken in the first place. Sometimes the best thing for you to do is to shut up and listen. Take a moment of silence.

Think, reflect, and try to understand what is going on. If you can’t understand, then at least try to learn. Take a moment to collect your thoughts, and meditate, and focus on what you can change and what you can do differently. The first thing you have to acknowledge is that if you weren’t born black, you will never know what it’s like to live as a black person in America. Likewise, unless you were born Latinx, you will never know what it’s like to be Latinx in America. The same rings true for every single ethnicity and culture. Unless you belong to a certain group you will only see things with your limited scope from the outside looking in. So the best thing you can do as an ally is listen, first and foremost. Don’t try to speak for others, don’t make it about yourself and the way you feel. How you feel is irrelevant. It doesn’t matter if you’re sad, empathetic, or angry. As soon as you say “I…” you’ve misdirected the focus. 

As an Asian American I know what it’s like to conform to stereotypes or play up to your designated role. Honestly, it’s kinda who we are. It’s our identity. We avoid conflict. We’re passive aggressive. We’re obedient. We listen to authority. It’s in our nature. When it comes down to it, our moral code is mainly derived from Taoism. There is no philosophy stressed more in Chinese culture than filial piety. Respecting your parents, elders, and ancestors. As such, it’s been easy for us to accept our role as the model minority. We know who’s in charge, we obey, and we listen. It makes us the safe race. It makes us the perfect group to sit at the white man’s feet. We don’t rock the boat, we don’t rattle the cage. We’re perfectly content with where we are, because it’s not so bad. It could be far worse. That, my friends is a trap that is far too easy for us to get sucked into. For years, we as a people have subconsciously been telling ourselves and others that this is not our fight. On the one hand we know that there’s racial injustice in the world. We can see it. On the other, we’ve been saying that we understand the black man’s struggle, but do we really? Or is it just lip service? Do we say this just so that we look good? Do we say it so we can get a pat on the back? Good, we acknowledge that there is racial injustice in the US and in the world, so what are we going to do about it? If this is “not our fight,” then when is it our fight? We’re the white man’s toady, when will it actually get worse for us? Let’s be real here. We’re in a unique position where we can effect change without experiencing the majority of bigotry stemming from racial and social disparities. If only we’d get our priorities straight.

I don’t know what types of conversations you’ve had with others. I don’t know what your intentions are. I don’t know what your beliefs are. And I’m not going to pretend to. I’m not a mind-reader. In the end, the only person who truly knows is yourself. You know the thoughts running through your brain. You know your intentions. You know your passions and you know your convictions. You can say what you want people to hear. You can say what you want people to believe. For all we know, it could be a disingenuous front. But only you, know what is actually going on in that noggin. I’ll be the first to admit that for too long, I’ve been far too silent on issues such as social inequality, racial injustice, and the like. But there’s a reason I stuck with being a sociology major. A decision that started out whimsical, progressed into fulfilling a requirement, concluded with making an impact. My mindset, my values, my way of life were deeply and thoroughly changed. Everything happens for a reason, the results of which, you may not see for years down the road. I’m sorry to say but for half a decade I squandered my opportunity. I took in and took in, but never put out. My educational background should’ve given me the (not so) unique opportunity to speak to, discuss with, and educate others on hot button topics featured prominently in sociology classes. But I was always too focused on my own issues. Too busy self-deprecating and feeling sorry for myself. Too busy looking at all my flaws and insecurities with the most powerful microscope. I didn’t understand the sort of impact I could have on those around me. But it always starts with you. Change starts in your heart and your brain, and permeates out. You may feel small, but never forget that you are the catalyst. You might not be able to change the world, but you can change yourself and hope to change those around you. Positive energy is contagious.

For most of my life I’ve been a glass half-empty kinda guy. I always saw the bad in every circumstance, I took things for granted, and I wasn’t counting my blessings. My mind was poisoned. Poisoned with negativity and cynicism, seasoned with doubt, anxiety, depression, you name it. Changing your mindset is half the battle; it’s tougher than you know. But it can be done, and it needs to be done. Each and every day is a learning process. Each and every day is a chance for you to grow and shine. In order to do that, you need to strive to be the best version of yourself. You need to accept that you don’t know everything; accept that your way is not necessarily the best way. You can seek knowledge, or you can seek help. There’s no one right answer. But you need to understand that change is necessary for growth. Growth is necessary for maturity. This is what it means to be human. We learn from our mistakes and we seek to lessen our ignorance. Once you conclude that there’s always more for you to learn, it becomes easier. In layman’s terms, this is what it means to be open-minded.

So what does that look like? It starts with listening. You’ll never be able to visualize life in someone else’s shoes unless you listen. Listen to what they’re telling you, pay attention to what they’re showing you. If a black person tells you about their experiences, believe them. Just because what they’re telling you is not what you’ve experienced doesn’t mean that it isn’t true. Each person is unique. No two people are exactly the same. We are all individuals. It seems so simplistic but why don’t we see it? Because we don’t spend enough time listening. We feel the need to butt in, to put in our two cents, to muddy the waters with our opinion on someone else’s reality. Shut up and listen. Which leads me to the second thing that’s irked me lately. We’ve been hearing the words, “silence is violence,” and “if you’re silent, you’re standing with the oppressor.” I mean I pretty much said those exact words last post. Please note that I’m not walking back my comments; I’m not regretting words that were said. But let’s be very clear here. Not being silent ≠ Posting on social media. You can “not be silent” without shitposting. I’ve seen people posting new resources, new BLM content on their IG story. Good on them. But I’ve also seen people posting the same damn thing day after day. Your intentions may be golden, but know that if you’ve run out of new things to post, it’s time for you to shut up and listen. Your voice is not the voice that needs to be heard at this moment. Amplify the black voice. Let the black activist who is more knowledgeable and experienced than you speak. Let the world hear their voice. Now is the time for you to be silent.

Let the black voice be heard. So what does that mean for you? What can you do to “not be silent?” As most things in life, there are different roles for different people. That’s how society functions. Not everyone will be an outspoken activist; not everyone will be a promoter. Not everyone will post on social media. Not everyone will march, not everyone will protest. But there is most definitely a specific role tailored to fit your personality, fit your needs, fit the needs of those around you. Some people prefer to donate in the background. Others seek to educate. Some facilitate deep and intimate conversations with their loved ones around them. There is no one way to speak out, there is no one way to speak up. Each person is free to express in their own peculiar way. And it is important to show your support in the way(s) that feels most comfortable for you. Be genuine in who you are, and what you say and do. Don’t feel pressured to say something just to say something. Don’t say something just to appear woke. Don’t open your mouth or your fingers just to keep up appearances. You may not know the words to say, but others do. Let them do the talking.

Call me old school, but I’m not the biggest fan of social media. There’s too much fishing for likes, too much attention seeking for my taste. Sure, I’ll post every so often, or go on there to view content, but posting incessantly is not my cup of tea. It’s too much. Some days I feel like social media exists solely for people to prove to their friends that they lead interesting lives. To be used to keep tabs on others. On social media, appearances matter, way too much. It ain’t that serious. With that aside, I can see where the statements originate from. Bullshit statements like, “I see your silence,” or “I see what you’re not doing.” Like damn, you don’t know me. Don’t fall into this trap. Don’t believe the lies. Just because you’re not posting, doesn’t mean that you’re being silent. If you’re not the type to post much on social media, don’t feel peer pressured into doing so, without purpose, just because. You’re welcome to support, speak, protest, etc. in your own manner. Don’t ever let anyone tell you how you should be expressing your feelings and emotions. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should protest or how you should speak out. This goes both ways. The only thing you can control is yourself. If you don’t like the way someone is doing something or saying something, then do better. Don’t criticize or call them out. Do better. Lord, knows we all can do better.

Be confident in who you are. Be unwavering in your beliefs and convictions. Words are just words, if they’re not backed up by action and resolution. It starts with you. But it doesn’t have to start with anything groundbreaking. Life begins with the smallest of molecules. Likewise, change can be initiated with the smallest of steps. A giant leap is not necessary for you to begin your path towards enlightenment. It starts with a seed. A seed of truth. What the seed looks like is up to you. How it blooms is up to you. What it becomes is up to you. Seek justice, find truth, uncover ignorance in your own way. Start small. Make mental notes to alter innate behaviors. Start conversations with friends and family. Take a deep dive into the history of systemic racism in our country. Pray or donate. Start thinking and learning. It’s up to you what kind of difference you want to make. It’s for you to determine where the right place to start is. But in your journey, be willing and open to learn, from yourself, from others, from your environment. And never be afraid to defer to others when you can’t think of what to say. It’s okay to be speechless once in a while. Take a moment of silence. The absence of your voice gives you a chance to listen to the voice of the unheard, to listen to humanity, to listen to the universe.