(A photo taken earlier today during my morning walk at Putrajaya Botanical Park)
I feel like the question “What have you learned recently?” is simple, but when I try to answer it, I hesitate. I don’t notice most changes in my life until I look back. I go about my day, dealing with whatever comes up, without really thinking about whether I’m getting better or not. But sometimes it’s clear that something has changed. That’s what this is, an attempt to notice what’s changed or improved.
Lately, I’ve been more aware of how much space I let myself take up. I made myself small for most of my life. I only spoke up when I was sure I wouldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. I tried to guess what people wanted, what they would put up with, and what would make me look out of place. Staying hidden can make you feel safe, but it wears you down over time. I didn’t realize that waiting for permission to share an idea, make something, or want something for myself was a choice because it had become such a habit. I don’t remember when it changed, but I do know that I don’t ask for so much approval anymore. I write or draw what I want, when I want. I publish things with my name on them sometimes, and other times I use a different name. Other times, I just leave the words on my hard drive. I don’t have to do anything for anyone. I quietly came to this realization, and it has remained with me.
I have also slowed down, both by necessity and by choice. It’s difficult to put into words how heavy this year has been. There were times when my body just gave up on me, like when I was always tired and had migraines that came out of nowhere and persisted. I quit working out. I stopped pretending that pushing myself harder would help. For a time, I simply waited, trying to manage the pain and the unknown by staying still. Eventually, I pinpointed the source of my fatigue and headaches, and they've since gotten considerably better. That experience taught me to slow down and listen to my body and get the help it needed.
The worst of the symptoms have disappeared, allowing me to move again. I don’t mean that in a figurative way; I really do walk and jog more. Three kilometers, three or four times a week, and there’s no need to hurry. There isn’t any more pressure to “get fit.” I just walk. I see the trees, hear the birds, and feel my legs moving again after months of inertia. It’s normal, but it means a lot to me. It feels like returning to my skin after months of being wrecked by fatigue and pain.
Setting boundaries is still new. For years, I thought it was my job to be there for others, take on their moods, and ensure things went well. Now, I say no more often. I let people deal with their problems. I don’t explain myself as much. It doesn’t feel empowering or freeing; it’s awkward and tense at times, but it’s real. Guilt comes and goes but I let it go. I’m starting to realize that saying yes won’t fix everything.
(A photo taken earlier today during my morning walk at Putrajaya Botanical Park)
Another lesson learned and change made: I don’t doubt my right to want things as much as I used to. For a long time, I told myself that I was easy to please and that wanting too much would only make me disappointed. It was better to keep my needs vague and not say them out loud. Lately, I've been craving more: more peace, more meaning, a stronger connection, and more room for my writing and art. I’m not sorry for it, even though I know I won’t get everything I want. I write and create because it's a necessity, not to satisfy anyone or to accumulate followers and likes. Those things are nice, no doubt, but they're secondary.
Trust is also a big deal, especially knowing that my voice matters. I still doubt myself, especially when I write in English. The urge to hold back is still there, but I keep going. I write what I think is honest, even if it’s not perfect. I establish boundaries when necessary. I don’t pretend like I know more than I do. Sharing is a form of practice in and of itself. I don’t know if anyone is interested in what I have to say. It doesn’t matter as much now; I just write and create.
Routine is what keeps me grounded. My days are typically plain. I get up, do what needs to be done, take a morning walk or jog, cook, read, draw, and write. Repetition is comforting. Things that used to be trivial are now important, like how the light changes during the day, the sound of rain in the morning, or a quick note from a friend. I don’t ignore these things anymore. I remember days by their texture and temperature and not by what I accomplished.
There’s nothing dramatic about the last few months. The most significant changes are internal, and I can’t see them unless I write them down. I’m not as interested in what looks appealing as I am in what feels right and true. I still mess up and sometimes I fall back into old habits. I’m not sure if there’s a lesson here at all. It’s just a slow process of living and noticing what’s different.
If you asked me a year ago what I’d learn, I wouldn’t have guessed any of this. Most things happen without a plan. They reveal themselves in silence after the fact, when I look up and realize I’m not in the same place anymore.
That's it for now. If you read this far, thank you. I appreciate it so much! I'm a non-native English speaker, and English is my third language. Post ideas and content are originally mine. Kindly give me a follow if you like my content. I mostly write about making art, writing, poetry, book/movie review and life reflections.
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