Goodbye for Now: Ending My Daily Blog After 2,015 Posts
On the first day of a ceramics course, the teacher split the class into two groups. One group will be graded on the quantity of work, and the other will be graded on the quality of work. However, at the end of the semester, when it came to grading time, the best quality work came from the group that was graded based on quantity. Quantity leads to quality.
Inspired by that story, I made a promise to myself on January 1st 2020, to write every single day. Five and a half years and 2,015 blog posts later, I haven’t missed a single day. But now, it’s time to bring that chapter to a close.
Writing daily has been the best decision I’ve ever made.
I met one of my best friends after posting a blog on LinkedIn.
I included my blog on my resume, and I spent the entire interview talking about writing. I got the offer the next day. A job I still have four years later.
Writing pushed me to move to New York City, the greatest writing city in the world. There, I started a writing community (shoutout OTWC) and met so many inspiring writers.
I’ve received plenty of emails and DMs from both friends and strangers who I inspired to start writing.
And of course, I improved immensely as a writer. I built creative discipline. I honed my voice. I learned about “show, don’t tell”.
But here’s the thing: quantity creates quality, only up to a certain point.
Most people probably have 10,000 hours of writing experience from iMessages, Emails, and Instagram DMs, but that doesn’t mean they can write like Mary Oliver or Ted Chiang. What separates a writer from the average person isn’t how much they write, it’s how much they rewrite. Editing. Revising. Refining. That’s where real writing emerges. And with a daily blog, I write a lot, but I don’t rewrite a lot.
Call this an obituary, or maybe a love letter. It’s a goodbye to a project I showed up for every day, for more than 2000 days consecutively. A project that changed my life.
But I’m not saying goodbye to writing. If anything, I’m doubling down. I want to write slower. Rewrite more. Spend more time on fewer, better pieces.
Which brings me to my next project: Fit Check: Words that make you feel seen. Stories on growing up, dressing up, and searching for belonging.
You’ll read essays like “On Leaving Your Hometown Dentist,” “Lessons Learned from a Pair of $300 Jeans,” and “May I Recommend Side Seating at the Restaurant?”
If you want to keep up with my writing, you can subscribe to Fit Check here.
Here’s to the next chapter 🍻!
What matters is not how much you write, but how much you rewrite
I first read Ventakesh Rao’s tips for advanced writers almost two years ago, and I still think about his advice to this day.
One of my main takeaways is that the difference between an amateur writer and a serious writer is the amount of time spent rewriting. Rewriting is where serious writing happens.
His entire answer is worth reading in full on Quora.
Being Present is a Skill
My friend texted me this quote today:
Mark Vancil explains MJ’s mindset the best. He says in the doc that “Most people struggle to be present and try to meditate, do yoga, travel to find themselves, and so on. Most of us live in fear because we project the past into the future. Jordan’s greatest gift was not that he good jump high, run fast and shoot a basketball, it was that he was completely present that was the separator.”
Good players who could otherwise become great are handicapped because they think about failure. “Why would I think about missing a shot I haven’t taken yet?” Jordan didn’t allow what he couldn’t control to get inside his head. You might not have this superhuman ability like MJ but consider your internal dialogue when approaching challenging tasks.
It’s an interesting idea that MJs greatest strength is not his basketball prowess but his ability to stay present.
Being present is the closest thing I’ve found to a universal answer. Life is lived in the present moment, and all peak experiences are ones in which we aren’t thinking of the past or the future but the present.
And being present is a skill. One of the best ways I learned to train it is through meditation.
I’m Right Where I Need to Be
Coming back from a two-week vacation and heading straight to San Diego for my work offsite, I was catching up on emails and messages when I saw that I was scheduled to lead a full-day session on Wednesday.
At first, I felt a bit of resentment. While many of my coworkers were off doing fun team bonding activities like escape rooms and whale watching, I’d be indoors, guiding my team through business problems and giving a presentation.
I felt stressed. I felt the pressure. And whenever I feel this way, I turn to Inner Excellence, a book I brought with me on this trip. There’s one passage I’ve dog-eared and returned to again and again:
In the pursuit of extraordinary performance, it’s easy to succumb to anxiety and pressure, because so much is out of your control. When you learn to live a life that is fully engaged, however, then you can perform your best and love the challenge. Every performance, presentation, or problem you face is an opportunity to learn and grow and vividly experience each moment. You will find, as you take this journey with me, that your best moments always come from a clear mind and unburdened heart. This allows you to take the risks necessary to be everything you were created to be.
Reading that always feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders.
Now that the presentations are over, I can say that the stress pushed me to perform and the adrenaline I’m feeling right now is amazing.
I’m right where I need to be.
Scaling Catchups
Today, I’m in San Diego for my company’s annual retreat.
I was catching up with a friend and coworker and found out he recently moved to a new city. He’s subscribed to my blog, so he already knew I had been in Vietnam, heard about the writing club, and knew about my new role at work.
One of my favorite things about writing a personal newsletter is that it makes it easy for people to catch up with me and stay in the loop. That’s why I wish more of my friends had personal blogs too, so I could keep up with what they’re doing as well.
Dress Like an Executive
In June 2023, I attended a work conference in Arizona. While chatting with an older gentleman, he paused and asked me a strange question: “No offense, but what level of seniority are you?”
At the time, I hadn’t yet updated my wardrobe, most of what I wore was still leftover from college.
That interaction made something clear, I looked like a new grad, and I dressed like one too. I probably came across as the youngest person in the room.
One thing I’ve learned about fashion, especially in professional settings, is that you never want to look like the youngest person in the room.
Clothing is a form of influence. When you dress like an executive and carry that presence, people often treat you accordingly, regardless of your actual title.
On Summer Side Quests
I’m a big planner. I set annual goals. Then I break those down into quarterly goals. Then I review my progress every week.
Being intentional about my goals has helped me achieve what I want. After doing this consistently for six years, I’ve started to understand what it takes to accomplish almost any goal.
But while my default mode is structure and planning, I always try to leave room for experimentation and serendipity.
That’s what summer is for.
This summer, I’m pausing on my usual creative projects to pursue some side quests.
This summer’s side quest is a new writing project. After reflecting on where I want to grow, it’s clear that I want to grow as a creative and a writer. My new writing project aligns more closely with this goal. I’ll share some more details soon.
Mental Photography Revisited
Some friends take photos to capture moments they want to remember. While I enjoy taking pictures too, I prefer to write about a moment. This blog serves as an archive, preserving what was happening and how I was feeling at the time.
Take my Vietnam trip, for example. Years from now, I’ll re-read posts written from that time and remember where I was and what I was feeling.
It’s like taking a mental photograph.
Destination Literature Revisted
Before I travel to a new destination, I like to search for the most culturally significant books from that place. It’s a way to understand the country on a deeper level.
Before visiting Vietnam, I read The Mountains Sing and The Sympathizer.
Through The Mountains Sing, I gained insight into how central the family unit is to Vietnamese life. The novel helped me understand the ideological divide between the Communist North and the Democratic South, and how the Vietnam War fractured families and left generational trauma in its wake.
Through The Sympathizer, I saw another angle of the war and its aftermath. I learned about the fall (or liberation) of Saigon, and how Vietnamese Generals, Commanders, and high ranking officials fled Vietnam, many ending up in the U.S. as waiters, busboys, or delivery drivers, carrying with them the weight of survivors guilt, PTSD, and loss.
It’s something worth trying on your next trip, find the most culturally significant media from the place you’re visiting. It doesn’t have to be a book, films or music can offer the same window. You’ll come away understanding not just the place itself, but how they think.
I Travel for the Fashion
Some travel for the food. Some travel for the art. I travel for the fashion.
When I travel to a new place, I’ll search for independent fashion brands, boutiques, and thrift stores. These stores are not just places of commerce but they’re community spaces for those with a shared interest in fashion. I’ll talk with the staff there, they’re usually the owners or at least passionate about the space, they then become my cultural guide for the city.
One of my favorite questions to ask is, “What’s the [insert city or country] style?” Any fashion nerd will perk up at that question.
Fashion is a reflection of history and culture and it becomes the lens that I understand the place.
Focus on Learnings, Not Goals
At the start of this year, I was put in charge of starting a Growth team at my company. The role is very output focused as we can have a clear profit and loss pipeline attached to our team. Despite that, my goal wasn’t hit a number, it wasn’t to get a promotion either. My goal was to learn as much as a I can about this skill and grow as a leader. Six months in, and we’ve got a few wins under our belt, there’s strong momentum, and many leaders are excited by what our team can accomplish.
There were a few times when we were stagnating on our goal, and I could’ve been stressed and anxious about it. But since I was growing and learning so much, I had trust that eventually we’ll win. And that ended up happening.
Lately, instead of setting goals and and asking what I want to achieve, I’ve been reframing the question as, what do I want to learn?
The former is focused on outcomes, the latter is focused on inputs.
I can control what I learn and learning and growth will lead to success.
Build a Life You Don’t Want to Escape From
I’m sitting in a café in Hoi An, facing a rice paddy. I just bought a 40-cent Vietnamese iced coffee with condensed milk. It’s a scorching 40 degrees outside with the humidity, but I’m tucked inside an air-conditioned room.
I love traveling. I love trying new foods, meeting people from different cultures, seeing how they dress and live.
But I also love my life in New York. I miss the creature comforts, the routine. I miss my friends. I miss pulling off fits in Williamsburg.
In Western culture, we romanticize travel. We plan elaborate vacations around our two weeks of PTO and look forward to them all year. It becomes a form of escapism.
And while this trip has been amazing, travel can get tiring. The novelty wears off. And sometimes, the existential dread creeps in too. Travel is fun but it isn’t fulfilling.
I meet a lot of people while traveling who feel stuck in limbo. They’re “finding themselves.” And while that’s fair, travel is a great time for self-reflection, many seem to use it as a form of escapism. They distract themselves by constantly meeting new people, partying, chasing pleasure, anything to avoid facing the bigger questions in life.
Instead of traveling to escape, build a life you don’t want to escape from.
Moving on From Fashion
During my vacation in Vietnam, I’ve continued to spend my mornings journaling and writing. These sessions have become a way for me to check in with myself, to re-evaluate my goals, projects, relationships, and work.
One realization that surfaced recently is that it might be time to move on from the fashion phase of my life.
I first got into fashion in the summer of 2023. What began as a project to upgrade my wardrobe quickly turned into an obsession. I went deep, I learned a whole new craft, developed a new skill set, immersed myself in an entire industry and way of thinking. My identity began to shift, both internally and how other perceived me.
I started writing about fashion too. It was a fun outlet to focus my curiosity on and express myself. And writing, I’ve come to realize, is a powerful form of self-monitoring. It’s a way to listen in on what the heart really wants.
Fashion gave me so much. And I’ve learned so much from it. But lately, it feels like I’m plateauing. One of my qualms with fashion as a craft is that it feels like a “pay-to-play” game. To keep growing in it, you have to keep buying new stuff. And that doesn’t resonate with me. At this point, I’ve found pieces I love and will hopefully wear for life. I’ve honed my personal style. While there are still improvements to make, I feel like I’ve almost reached my personal peak.
I’ve also noticed that when I visit bookstores, the fashion books on the shelves don’t resonate with me anymore. I’ve read most of the ones that interest me already.
That being said though, fashion has made me appreciate writing even more. I love that writing is accessible, I can it anywhere, at little to no cost. It reinforced the idea that writing is the craft I want to double down on.
I still love fashion. I love that I can now read an outfit and understand the stories people are telling through their clothes. I have a deep appreciation for the craftsmanship behind clothing. Fashion remains a meaningful way for me to connect with others and view the world. It’ll always be a hobby of mine and a perspective I carry.
Each creative project and phase carries with it lessons that help me understand myself. Fashion is still a topic I’ll write about occasionally. But there are other creative ideas that speak to me right now. And perhaps it’s time to put this chapter to rest.
My Friend Vu
During my trip to Vietnam, one of the most memorable stops was Ha Giang, where we did the popular Ha Giang Loop. As part of the experience, each of us had a local driver. My driver’s name was Vu.
The first thing Vu said to me was, “You look like that actor from G.I. Joe. I love this film. I watched it twice!”
Over the next few days, I got to know Vu. He was 28, same age as me. He showed me photos of his wife and son. I showed him pictures of my family too. We’d talk about life, Vietnamese culture, North American culture, my travels, etc.
On the bike, I played music through a portable speaker. Since we were on a motorcycle, I felt compelled to play some music from the Fast and Furious vibes. I queued up “Tokyo Drift,” Vu was vibing and bobbing his head to the music and driving a bit too fast. I then played, “See You Again”, which Vu said, “I love this song!”
We shared meals, happy water, and laughs. The whole thing felt like an episode of Anthony Bourdain.
After the trip, Vu sent me and my friend Ethan a heartfelt message on WhatsApp. He said he’d never met anyone like us. Most of the other travelers on the trip would talk amongst each other. But we talked with him, ate with him, answered even his “silly” questions, like we were family. And the next time we visit Vietnam, to hit him up and he’s happy to host us.
Sometimes I forget that this is what it’s all about. The sights, the sounds, the food, make a trip fun. But the people are what make the trips memorable.
Beijing Bikini Season
On my first day in Vietnam, I saw a Vietnamese uncle with his shirt rolled up to expose his belly. I assumed it was a way to cool down in the sweltering heat.
Today I learned that this practice is called the Beijing Bikini and is widespread across Asia, especially with older men. Some think that the Beijing Bikini is vulgar. So much so that a few Chinese cities started banning it.
I personally have no problem with it, and I thought it was pretty funny the first time I saw it. It is perhaps more practical to do this in the heat. But there is a double standard that women can walk around with their bellies exposed but men can’t.
Not Everyone Can Afford to Travel
Last night over dinner, we were eating and drinking with our local Vietnamese guides, guys around the same age as me. They asked about my travels and the countries I’ve been to.
I asked them about their travels, too. My friend Vu told me they don’t even think about traveling, it’s just too expensive.
It made me reflect on something I wrote the other day, about comparing the cost of living in New York City, one of the most expensive cities in the world, to Vietnam, one of the most affordable. I’m lucky I can come here and splurge without thinking too much about it. But for many locals, even though things are cheap here, the cost of traveling abroad can feel impossibly out of reach.
I Prefer Asking People Instead
When I first arrived in Hanoi, I was tempted to ask ChatGPT for the best restaurants to check out.
But I stopped myself. Instead, I started asking the people around me, the girl at the currency exchange, people at the hostel, shopkeepers, anyone local.
We live in an age where I can ask ChatGPT pretty much anything. Questions I might’ve once asked a stranger or a friend, I can now type into a box and get an answer instantly.
And while ChatGPT gives amazing answers, I don’t want to lose the human part. Asking questions is a great way to start a conversation, build trust, or connect with someone new.
You Can Write Everywhere
One thing I love about writing is how cheap and accessible it is.
I don’t need any fancy equipment, just a pen and paper. And even if I don’t have those on hand, I can open Apple Notes and start writing right there.
If I want to create a science fiction story, I don’t need a multi-billion dollar film budget. I can build entire worlds with nothing more than words. If I want to express myself, I can simply pull out my tools and get to work.
I don’t need to spend a dime. I can just do it anywhere.
In One Piece, the Straw Hat Pirates travel from island to island, and each island serves as its own arc with a unique environment, culture, and adventure. Arabasta is a desert kingdom, Skypiea is a floating sky island, and the current arc, Egghead, takes place on a futuristic island.
With every arc, the Straw Hats wear a new fit that reflects the setting. I love that idea, wearing a uniform that marks the start of a new chapter or adventure in life.
Right now, in Vietnam, my current “arc uniform” has a simple template: a hat (my hair’s in that awkward phase) and a vest. The vest is my favorite part of the outfit. It’s so damn practical. At the airport, I keep everything like my phone, wallet, passport, flight tickets, AirPods, snackies on me. And when it’s time to go through security, I just slip the vest off. No fumbling through pockets. On day trips, I don’t need a daypack. I carry everything in the vest. Because it’s all close to my body, I don’t worry much about pickpockets either.
This uniform is quite versatile too, whatever bottoms, shoes, or layers I feel like wearing that day. It’s become my go-to uniform: simple, functional, and versatile especially for my trip in Vietnam.
My New Journal
Yesterday in Hanoi, around noon, I was walking back from a café to my hostel when I stumbled upon a small shop selling naturally dyed goods. They had bags, wallets, scarves, robes, all kinds of beautiful items dyed using traditional techniques by the Hmong people of Northern Vietnam.
If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you’ll know I have a bit of an obsession with naturally dyed textiles. Before coming here, I knew Vietnam had a rich history of textile dyeing, so I’d been keeping an eye out for pieces like this.
One item I picked up was a notebook dyed in natural indigo, with a hand-drawn Batik print. The cover was stunning, and the paper inside had this soft, off-white tone with visible pulp.
Over the years, I’ve noticed something: when I use a good notebook and pen, I write more. Something about quality tools makes me want to sit down and put pen to paper. I’ve used the same pen for seven years now: a gold-plated Parker Jotter that was gifted to me by coworkers at the end of an internship. I just refill it when it runs out. And this morning, with this new notebook in hand, I had one of the most inspired journaling sessions I’ve had in a long time.
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