I used to be a cappuccino girl. But then COVID-19 happened.
Without access to an espresso machine, I reluctantly switched to black coffee, thinking it was just a temporary adjustment. Little did I know, there would be no turning back. Black coffee has since become my go-to: it's simpler, saves money and calories, and requires only a few pour-over tools.
Yet, despite my newfound habit of brewing hand-pour coffee, I never appreciated it as an art. To me, the process felt like a chore. Waiting for the water to drip through the filter and grinding the beans seemed tedious. My constant thought was, "Ain’t nobody got time for this." As long as the coffee was drinkable, why bother being so particular about the details? Not to mention, the act of pouring water and watching it drip was unbearable. All in all, I was just restless.
But something changed after I stumbled upon a documentary titled Exploring the Unknown, featuring Chinese celebrity Wang Yibo. While I’m not a fan, I enjoyed his character in The Untamed, which is based on a novel by one of my favourite authors. In the documentary, he embarked on a wild, adventurous journey through forests, caves, and even underwater. It was rugged and raw, yet amidst it all, he had his hand-pour coffee kit.
Despite the harsh conditions and limited resources, he insisted on brewing himself a good cup of coffee every morning. He spoke about how making coffee was a ritual—a moment of calm he carved out of his hectic schedule. It was just a passing comment about his routine, but it struck me deeply.
"Look at him," I thought. "He’s an A-list celebrity with a packed schedule, yet he takes the time to make himself a proper cup of pour-over coffee. And here I am, acting like I’m too busy—as if I’m the President or something!"
That’s when it hit me: the problem wasn’t the coffee-making process. It was me. I had become so restless, so detached from the present moment, that even small tasks like brewing coffee felt like an ordeal. My constant excuse of"I don’t have the time" was just a cover for how little peace and focus I had in my life. I craved instant gratification, a habit that had spiralled to unhealthy levels.
Recognizing this, I reached out to a friend who happens to be an award-winning barista. I spent half of my Sunday in the café that he works at, learning the proper way to brew a good cup of pour-over coffee. To my surprise, I discovered that the entire process, when done correctly, takes less than five minutes. Five minutes! A tinyyyyy fraction of the time I waste mindlessly scrolling on my phone.
Over the past few days, I’ve started practising the art of making hand-pour coffee. I approach it patiently and quietly, treating it as a meditative ritual. I remind myself that not everything in life needs to be rushed. I deserve a calm, focused morning before diving into the chaos of my to-do list.
That said, I’m far from perfect at making a good pour-over coffee. But I’ve noticed that this simple ritual has brought a sense of gratitude and mindfulness to my day. It’s a small change, yet it’s shown me that “life can be good in such a simple manner.”
Thursday, November 21, 2024
I have been trying to keep three books on rotation lately just to add a little more variety to my day-to-day. It’s my first time doing this because, usually, I'm that person who needs to finish one book before even thinking about starting another. But ever since I heard this suggestion from a YouTuber (either Kalyn Nicholson or Jenn Im—I can’t remember which), I thought I’d give it a go.
Right now, my reading list is pretty diverse. I have 3 books on rotation - a Chinese fantasy novel, The Art of Sun Tzu (ngl, this gets kinda dry at times and it's lengthy), and I just finished The Comfort Book by Matt Haig.
That last one felt like a gentle hug in the form of words. Haig's reflections are simple but powerful reminders of resilience, compassion, and taking life moment by moment. So, I thought I’d share a few of my favourite quotes from The Comfort Book with you all, hoping they bring a bit of light and peace to your day.
♠ Things weren’t always one thing or another thing. They were sometimes both.
♠ We are more than can be measured. We are life itself. We aren’t the narrow band of feelings in a single moment. We are the vessel that could contain any feeling. We are the subject in the sentence. We are more than the sum of our achievements. We are more than the feelings we witness. We are the infinity that remains when you subtract them.
♠ Stay for the person you will become.
♠ When we can’t speak, we can write. When we can’t write, we can read. When we can’t read, we can listen. Words are seeds. Language is a way back to life.
♠ It’s easy to be surrounded so entirely by a single view that almost anyone without that view becomes alien. But. We can look at the world through more than one lens. If we look at people through the lens of emotion, at the feelings that drive opinions, rather than the opinions themselves.
♠ The most powerful moment in life is when you decide not to be scared anymore.
Thursday, November 14, 2024
Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’ve hit a plateau in content creation.
Honestly, ever since I started working full-time, and especially now that writing’s my main gig, I’ve kind of lost that spark for writing just for myself. (I’ll admit, it’s probably just an excuse.)
When I first began sharing my life online, there wasn’t all this talk about cracking the algorithm’s code, defining content pillars, or targeting specific audiences. Maybe those things were there back then, but I was innocently ignorant. The more I learned about "doing it right," the more it started feeling like a checklist—one I had to tick off, weighed down by numbers and ROI. And somewhere along the way, that initial love for writing online just... faded.
In 2012, I started this blog for two reasons: one, I was bored, and two, I couldn’t afford an external hard drive, so I needed somewhere to store my photos. I treated it like an online diary, filling it with pieces of my life. This space always felt like a reflection of who I am—the way I write mirrors how I talk in real life, from my tone and word choice to my (sometimes) opinionated nature. I think I express myself better in writing than in speaking. It’s as if the words just flow more freely when I’m typing than when I’m trying to say them aloud. I started with no real goals other than to capture moments and, maybe, if I was lucky, connect with a few people along the way.
I want to find that feeling again. That pure, innocent intention sparked my journey and, unexpectedly, opened doors to opportunities I never could’ve imagined. I don’t want to confuse the cause-and-effect anymore—I truly believe that life comes full circle, and we should trust the path we’re on. And let’s not forget, when we stay in the "flow," that’s when good things tend to manifest effortlessly.
I think I’m on a journey to find something in life, though I’m not entirely sure what it is just yet. For now, maybe I’ll discover it through mindful documentation—training my eyes to notice the tiniest moments that spark joy, my heart to feel more deeply, and my mind to romanticise the fleeting beauty of life’s everyday encounters. Life is a series of moments that come and go so quickly, and we ourselves are but a brief existence in the grand scheme of things. In the end, all we really have are the words and photos that tell the story of our lives and say, “I lived.”
Sometimes I think about how incredible it would be to flip through my online diary one day, maybe when I’m lying on my deathbed, and smile as I look back on it—thinking, "Ah, this is how it all went." And hopefully, by then, I’ll have no regrets, able to pat myself on the back and say, "You’ve lived well."
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the whole point.
Sunday, November 10, 2024
People love to say, "Old habits die hard." But honestly? I disagree. That phrase is often a crutch we use to avoid the discomfort of change. It’s a defence mechanism, a way to justify staying stagnant when deep down, we know change is necessary.
And trust me, I’m not sitting here on a high horse, calling anyone out. This was me too—stuck in patterns I didn’t even realize were holding me back. But over the last few months, I’ve started asking myself tougher questions, confronting (demonic) thoughts I hadn’t wanted to face.
Let’s be real for a second. How many of us spend our days worrying about what others are doing, thinking, or saying? And how often do we pause and reflect on what’s going on inside our own heads? I used to be that person, always speculating about someone else's actions, rather than facing my own inner struggles.
But something shifted this year. I realized that the most important work I can do is within myself. Let me give you some small examples.
On days when I think, "I’m too tired to work out", I’ve started asking myself, "Am I really tired, or am I just going to lay in bed and scroll through Instagram?" Spoiler alert: I’m usually just being lazy. So instead of giving in, I make a deal with myself: "Get up, and just do 10 minutes." Usually, once I start, those 10 minutes turn into 20 or 30, because if I’m already committing to washing my hair afterwards, I might as well make it worth it!
Another big revelation for me this year was learning to stop interpreting other people’s actions as personal attacks. You know how we do that? Someone doesn’t text you back for a few days, and immediately, your mind starts spiralling: "She’s ignoring me." or "There she goes again, acting like a bitch!" But here’s the truth—it’s almost never about you. Most people aren’t scheming or plotting against you; they’re just living their lives, caught up in their own stuff.
I used to be that person, assuming the worst and taking things personally. But one day, while I was venting to a friend about someone not responding to me, she asked a question that changed my perspective: “Why do you want to make yourself a victim by default?”
That hit me hard. Why was I so quick to victimize myself? Why did I automatically assume someone was out to hurt me? Why was I so obsessed with envisioning things going wrong instead of rainbows and unicorns? Call me delusional, but according to the law of attraction, the more you focus on something, the more likely it is to manifest in your life—and I definitely do not want to subscribe to that service!
Tuesday, October 1, 2024
I wasn’t ready for it to be a book on psychology.
This book, written by a Korean woman named Baek Hee, explores her struggles through life, caught in a cycle of ups, downs, and mood swings. At some point, she finally decides enough is enough and plucks up the courage to take herself off to therapy. The book consists of a series of chapters, with lengthy dialogues between the writer and her therapist.
While looking through Goodreads for reviews of this book, I saw many people complaining about it being harsh and mean towards people with mental health issues, and how many issues were glossed over lightly.
I agree, but I also disagree.
I think this book is not something you read to relax or just for some light, comforting “chicken soup” for the soul. You won’t grasp its essence unless you take the time to dive deep into the conversations between Baek Hee and her therapist, while applying the lessons to your own life, stories, and experiences. It’s a book of self-reflection rather than one you read solely from a third-person point of view. Here are the useful points I picked out from the book, which made me start being aware of how I was looking at and analyzing certain circumstances.
I personally think this is the whole reason for reading a book. There are no badly written books or poorly told stories, to be honest – only less effective methods of conveying a message or crafting a narrative. There is a lesson in everything, including a so-called bad book or bad story.
Try viewing this book as a set of suggestions, rather than a do-it-this-way-or-you-will-be-forever-depressed guide. It calls for building the practice of mindfulness.
♠ When you’re having a hard time, it’s natural to feel like you’re having the hardest time in the world. And it’s not selfish to feel that way.
♠ Your perception of reality is so polarised and extreme. you’re only able to see within the framework of ‘Everything about us is the same’ or ‘Everything about us is different.’
♠ You should try to stop yourself from reflexively falling back on thinking patterns you normally default to.
♠ I don’t think it’s a problem that needs fixing. It’s all a matter of how you see yourself.
♠ You’ve got to stop falling into the binary trap of thinking you’re either all-ordinary or all-special. ‘Good’ and ‘bad’ are not the only ways we think in black and white.
♠ Your emptiness and fear are all mixed up, and you’re asking for help to defend yourself. But if you depend on another person for help, it’ll satisfy you only for a moment, and you may not be able to stand on your own two feet later.
♠ Do you think every behaviour falls into a category of, ‘They did this because they hate me’ or ‘They did this because they like me’? The whole point of not liking your friend’s behaviour means you don’t like her behaviour, not your friend as a person. But right now, you keep interpreting every behaviour exhibited by your friend as rejection. Your mind immediately goes to the most extreme explanation instead of stopping to think of the many other reasons your friend could be doing what she’s doing. You keep applying these extreme standards to others. In effect, it’s your own thoughts that are torturing you. Learn to differentiate the parts from the whole. Just because you like one thing about a person, you don’t need to like everything about them. And just because you don’t like one thing about a person, it doesn’t mean the person as a whole isn’t worth your time. I think you should get in the habit of thinking differently.
♠ Love comes in different shapes, and I shouldn’t judge someone else’s love by my own standards.
♠ Many people think they’re the foremost authority on themselves, but you should be more sceptical. You’ve got to ask yourself, ‘Do I really know myself well?’
♠ Your very real problem is that you bring this same judgmental attitude on yourself.
♠ No one was looking down on me except myself.
♠ I feel like I talk about the same problem every time. And you always give me the same answers. I don’t change myself, which is why the same problems keep coming up.
♠ Your perspective of yourself is so narrow and self-critical that you’re unable to see things from a wider perspective, and so you goad yourself into choosing just one angle, which is the easiest way out.
♠ I hope you will listen to a certain overlooked and different voice within you. Because the human heart, even when it wants to die, quite often wants at the same time to eat some tteokbokki, too.
♠ Meeting someone who moves your heart, writing something until it moves the hearts of others, listening to music and watching movies that depict love–I want to always be motivated by love. If pure rationality keeps forcing itself into the spaces in between, I shall lose the shine and comfort of my life–which is why I want to be an emotionally bright person, even if it means becoming impoverished in terms of rationality. I want to hold hands and march with those who feel similarly to me.
♠ I often look for books that are like medicine, that fit my situation and my thoughts, and I read them over and over again until the pages are tattered, underlining everything, and still the book will have something to give me. Books never tire of me. And in time they present a solution, quietly waiting until I am fully healed. That’s one of the nicest things about books.
Saturday, August 3, 2024
Bauman dives into how consumerism has overshadowed the old-school work ethic, with his historical and philosophical take on it. This book is not an easy read because it can feel a bit dry and like you're reading someone’s lengthy thesis.
Bauman begins by discussing how the work ethic became significant during industrialization. In the past, people valued their "workmanship" and preferred leisure over unnecessary labour. But industrial times demanded a different attitude. Factory owners wanted to make workers dependent on them, and with a little help from the government, they pushed for a complete societal shift. Artisans were left out in the cold as factory work became the new norm.
Fast forward to today, and we've shifted from a society of producers to a society of consumers. Satisfaction isn't the goal anymore; it's all about the thrill of wanting more, sugar-coated as a motivation to hustle harder. In the past, your class determined your identity, but now, you build it yourself through the choices you make in the marketplace. More choices mean more freedom, right? Well, not exactly. This so-called freedom is just another illusion created by market forces.
Living in a consumer society means we detest having our choices limited, so we gravitate towards deregulation and neoliberalism. Work, devoid of any real joy, loses its value; and come payday, you’d simply spend your hard-earned money on unnecessary expenditures. Does that imply that the time and effort invested in work are all in vain? To fill the jobs nobody wants, we recreate a survival scenario, but this time, there's no noble work ethic to cling to. Instead, the poor are viewed as inadequate consumers. Society no longer feels the need to uplift them but rather blames them for their situation, branding them as an irredeemable "underclass."
Bauman’s empathy for the poor shines through. They're often labelled as lazy, but he shows they're actually victims of a broken system. Work ethics, Bauman argues, were invented to force people into factory jobs and now serve to blame the unemployed for their plight. With globalization, local governments can't do much to help since capital moves freely across borders. Modern society deals with the poor by marginalizing, criminalizing, and segregating them. They're not seen as potential workers anymore but as failures in the consumer game.
One of Bauman’s more optimistic ideas is universal basic income, something C. Offe also talks about. This would shift our focus from employment to basic rights and protections. But even Bauman knows this solution is a bit too optimistic, given the power of global capital.
Reading "Work, Consumerism and the New Poor" is quite a rollercoaster. Bauman sometimes suggests that work ethics were a grand conspiracy, which seems like a stretch without solid proof. Personally, I'd prefer to see it as a collective societal belief disguised as the norm, rather than a brainwashing tactic used by capitalists. Perhaps to some extent it is, but ultimately, it comes down to whether individuals would simply accept and believe in this belief.
Given that this book was written almost 20 years ago, some parts feel dated, but its message still resonates strongly. Consumerism has only sunk its claws deeper into our lives. Consider this: from housing to healthcare to our daily routines, systems are designed to extract every last penny from us. We're essentially primed to compete for the top, leveraging our education and careers, yet often find ourselves ensnared by rising costs. Consequently, our lives become a ceaseless pursuit of better homes, better cars, and so forth. It's a cycle of chasing bigger, better, and higher price tags, often with more debts piled on.
This book makes it clear that our societal structures are choices, even when they feel like inescapable traps. So it comes full circle: when it's all about choices, what are you choosing for yourself? Because nobody is pointing a gun at your head. There is no black or white, good or wrong within this equation. It’s about where one’s personal values lie. Having previously worked in the retail banking industry for two years has definitely taught me a valuable lesson on this— one’s bank accounts and transactions often speak volumes more about them than the words that come out of their mouths.
"Work, Consumerism and the New Poor" peels back the layers of consumer society, exposing the harsh realities beneath. Bauman's insights into consumerism and the marginalization of the poor are still relevant, pushing us to rethink what we value and how we define success. "Work, Consumerism and the New Poor" peels back the layers of consumer society, exposing the harsh realities beneath. Bauman's insights into consumerism and the marginalization of the poor remain relevant, urging us to reconsider what we value and how we define success.
I wouldn’t recommend this book as a must-read for everyone because, as mentioned, getting through the entire book consumed a lot of focused energy from my end due to its lengthy narrations. Unless you are truly interested in the history of economics, I think a practical takeaway I could share with anyone (even those who are not that financially savvy) is to be conscious of why and where you are spending your money. Remember, there is no right or wrong judgment here; it’s all about your choices and how aware you are of your true intentions behind them. Simple and straightforward.
Saturday, June 8, 2024
As I sit down to pen this heartfelt note, I find myself overwhelmed with a mixed bunch of feelings. Now that you both are no longer (physically) here, I can’t help but reminisce about the day when I brought you two tiny furballs back from the pet shop on the 7th of October 2021.
From the moment you both scampered into my life, a burst of cuteness and warmth enveloped my heart every single day, without fail, even during the moments when you drove me insane.
Since day one, I couldn't resist sharing daily snippets of your adorable antics on social media. Little did I know that your charm would ripple out, influencing friends and followers to embark on their own journeys of hamster companionship. Just like that, you girls indirectly gave other hamsters a home that they could call their own too!
Many have questioned my choice, wondering if the frequent heartbreaks accompanying the short lifespan of hamsters would deter me from welcoming another furry friend into our home. To them, I say this: the essence of life, be it for humans or hamsters, lies in the inevitable journey towards the final stage – death. It's a bittersweet reality illustrated beautifully in The Little Prince, where the process of "taming" transcends the fear of bidding goodbyes. Yes, tears may fall, and a few days of sadness may linger in the wake of farewells, but these are the small prices we pay for the immeasurable joy of giving a furry ball a home.
Although you girls might have had a short time with me, your little pawprints will always be on my heart, forever.
PS: Please stop fighting one another in heaven!
Tuesday, March 5, 2024
聊着聊着,不知怎么,我们的话题转向了【成年人的快乐】。