Long-form

Long-form blog posts and editorials. Topics cover both personal and the world at large. 

You Will Miss it When it's Gone - 2022 Reflections

Starting off 2022 with the intention of doing some hard-nosed austerity went straight out the window. Only a few weeks into the new year, I lucked into the elusive PlayStation 5 console being in stock at Best Buy. This set off a chain reaction that led me to spend about $3,000 all in. That’s how I started 2022: with a bang to the wallet.

The PS5 itself is only $500 (before taxes, obviously), but I needed a television to go along with it. My Apple Pro Display XDR – my most spendy piece of kit from 2021 – cannot accept an HDMI connection. I moved into my studio apartment back in November of 2020, and I’ve yet to buy a TV for the place. It’s not something I really needed: everything I care to watch is on the Internet. The MacBook Pro paired with an external display works superbly for enjoying entertainment.

The PlayStation 5 absolutely required a TV. I literally do not have room for another monitor on my desk. As is my wont to not skimp on anything I buy, I bought a 65-inch LG OLED TV to pair with the PS5. It’s a gorgeous display, so much so that I’ve transition quite a bit of online video viewing to the far larger screen. The quality doesn’t come cheap, of course: the LG TV came in at nearly $2,000.

But then I needed a TV stand to place the TV, wanting to avoid drilling into the wall for a wall mount. Kind of crazy how an opportunity to buy the PS5 snowballed itself into an exponentially larger expense. The funny thing is, the Sony console remains super difficult to buy anywhere at the end of 2022! I guess I’m fortunate, pain to the wallet notwithstanding.

The spending floodgate did not abate. I bought a small dining table and stool setup to (finally) finish furnishing my place. I dropped $450 on a set of bookshelf speakers to compliment the MacBook Pro workstation. Gone is relying on a finicky HomePod Mini for sound. The biggest expense in 2022 next to the LG TV is the $1,200 I spent on a new mattress. I could be forgiven for that largess: I’ve had my previous mattress since I was in grade school. For mainly sanitary reasons, it was time to move on.

I cannot pretend that austerity will finally happen in 2023. What I am aiming for is to achieve some semblance of longevity with the things I buy. I very much believe in the adage of buying the best and keeping it a long time. Admittedly I’ve struggled to do so in certain areas. Despite buying some high-quality cars over the year, the longest I’ve managed to keep any one of them is three years. I’m onto the third year of ownership with my BMW M2 Competition, and the goal is absolutely to keep it as long as possible.

There’s also the iPhone, which I’ve replaced every year with the latest version ever since I made enough money to afford my own smartphone. I see that as a necessary expense. My iPhone is the single highest usage of anything I own. It is well worth the price to have the latest and greatest, especially when it comes to my photography vis a vis the advancements to the camera system year over year.

Other than the smartphone, I vow to keep and use the things I have for a very long time. In 2022 I did not upgrade my MacBook Pro – after having done so the previous three years! I like shiny new things as much as the next person, but I really try hard to accept and appreciate the items that I already have. You’ve no idea how many times I have to walk back from the checkout cart on a yet another mechanical keyboard. I keep reminding myself the one I have is just fine.

One area I won’t hesitate to spend money on is creating a homely and stress-free environment. Moving to within a 10-minute walk from work is probably the best thing to emerge out of the pandemic (still ongoing?). Especially so in 2022 when I returned to onsite five full days a week. The freedom of being so close to everything I need is immeasurably more valuable than the rent I am paying.

The neighborhood I’m in now is quieter, greener, and safer than my previous location. It eliminates a huge amount of latent stress that permeates from living in an area of constant loud noises and the fun game of is it fireworks or gunshots? I didn’t realize how much my environment was contributing to my stress and anxiety levels until I moved out of my parent’s place. It was definitely worth selling my beloved 911 GT3 in order to do so. I miss that car every day, but I’m a far healthier person whilst doing so.

Environment includes inside the home as well. The purchase of the TV, PS5, dining table and chair rounds out the furnishing. Money well spent to create a cozy place that I want to spend massive amounts of time in. It’s incredibly relaxing to come home to such a lovely environment. The return on investment here, again, is immeasurable.

You should also spend money on getting rid of the little annoyances in your life. Because those small niggles can add up to big stresses over time. One of the best things I bought this year is rollerblade wheels for my Herman Miller Aeron chair. The quality-of-life increase is tremendous. The chair now rolls effortlessly and quietly. The non-stick surface of my rice cooker’s inner pan was peeling. I replaced it with a new unit immediately, instead of living with scraping vigorously the stuck-on rice after every use.

Some of the little annoyances don’t even cost money to fix. I had this drawer that was not closing as smoothly as it should be. Instead of letting it linger, I took the whole drawer out and checked all the fasteners, some of which were indeed loose. Quick and easy, and I didn’t have to look at the same fault every time afterwards. Out of mind.

As a chronic procrastinator, it’s always been a challenge for me to do things at the appropriate time. So long as I always meet the deadline, it’s no big deal to delay a bit in the meantime. Then I heard on an episode of the Modern Wisdom podcast something profound: there’s a so-called anxiety cost to putting off the things you know you’re supposed to be doing (also known as, procrastination). Until you’ve actually finished the task, it will always be at the back of your mind gnawing at you.

Indeed, I do feel shittier on the days I leave my morning writing to the evening - at least until the work is finally done. This is why I am writing this year-end blog post on the 30th, instead of the 31st. Firstly, that would be cutting it too close. More importantly, the anxiety of having to write this piece would be latent in the back of my mind. I cannot completely relax into whatever I am doing until it is done.

The same applies to stuff at work. Sometimes it’s easy to punt tickets onto next week. But come Sunday evening, that punted ticket would pile onto the dread of the forthcoming Monday. And on Monday, I would be kicking myself: why didn’t I take care of this last week? I think this is a good mental model to follow: don’t let the future you be upset at the current you.

It’s probably an obvious thing to say, but it’s so much better for my mental health to do the stuff that needs to get done expediently.

As I head into the latter part of my 30s, I’m all about eliminating needless anxiety and stress. Some of that is good; otherwise we’d be just living life like zombies. What’s important then is to do the work first, then reward yourself afterwards. On an episode of the Huberman Lab podcast, Dr. Huberman prescribe that we should delay the dopamine hits to after we’ve done the day’s work. Put all the YouTube watching and Twitter scrolling toward the end of the day. The things that need doing comes first.

Sort of a variation on the classic marshmallow test. Probably shouldn’t require a podcast to remind me of something I should have retained from my Asian upbringing (if you know, you know) but nevertheless, the shift to anti-procrastination has had a wonderful affect to my well-being in 2022. I have far less unfinished tasks constantly hanging over me throughout the day like a sword of Damocles.

For me, the best afterwards reward for a solid day’s work is always dinner. Taking my time to eat a slow dinner every day is a non-negotiable joy. Whether it’s with my lonesome, or with a bunch of friends.

After dinner gets slightly tricky. We’ve all done this, surely: launch the streaming app of your choice, and then down the scrolling rabbit hole you go. The indecision on what to watch can be paralyzing, and honestly a huge waste of time. This problem extrapolates out onto the weekend, where presumably you have some significant hours of free time. What should I do? When there are so many options out there, it’s rather easy to get sucked into ruminating on exactly which thing to choose.

As much as possible I try to ere on the side of action. It doesn’t have to be perfect: just pick something quickly and do it! (I’m not talking about scrolling twitter endlessly, either.) Having a few important core activities makes it easier to pick. For me, those are: book reading, study Korean, learning the piano, and playing video games. Whenever I am stuck on what to do, I can immediately jump into any of those four activities. In the aforementioned YouTube rabbit hole, if I’m stuck for something to watch, I would pick Korean-language videos.

Not to say I don’t enjoy a bit of doing absolutely nothing. One of the discovered joys of this year is staring out my room window in the morning with a cup of coffee in hand, and music playing in the background. I would simply zone out and think of whatever that comes to mind. After that, I would write on this blog. That’s my kind of morning routine, one I wish to do forever, day after day.

I hope to achieve as long a forever as possible – human span permitting - by continuing to eat well, sleep consistently, and exercise regularly. In 2022 I returned to intermittent fasting: 16 hours of fasting with an 8-hour feeding window. This basically ­means I skip breakfast. No more oatmeal with two eggs, no more McDonalds on weekend mornings. I simply don’t like to eat that early in the morning. Whatever benefits I get from intermittent fasting is but a bonus to the labor saved in preparing one less meal a day.

As for sleep, this year I solved a somewhat chronic problem of mine: actually falling asleep. We’ve all been there: tossing, turning, switching position, but sleep can’t seem to arrive. Fretting over the fact you can’t seem to fall asleep compounds the problem into a negative feedback death spiral. I already go to sleep and wake at the same time, no matter the day of the week, so that’s not where the solution is.

Instead, my solution is quite simple: spend more time in the bed. For the goal of sleeping a solid eight hours, I actually go to bed about half an hour earlier, for a total in-bed time of eight and a half. That way, I never get stressed about not falling asleep quickly – there’s a buffer built in. This avoids the negative loop of worrying about not getting the proper amount of sleep. I shall fall asleep whenever, and it will be okay the next morning.

As for exercising, I’ve incorporated rucking into my routine. Michael Easter, author of the book The Comfort Crisis, introduced me to the idea. Basically, I bought a backpack with a 30-pound iron weight inside. I would then wear this on my walk to and from work. 20 minutes per day of moderate exercise. It’s supposed to emulate soldiers carrying tens of pounds of equipment in their packs and walking many miles. More intense than walking, but less impact than running. Given a heavy enough pack and distance, rucking can be quite intense of an exercise.

I saw it as an easy and effective way to add an exercise element to something I have to do every day: walking to work.

Eat well, sleep right, and exercise. The prescription is basic and effective, though I am reminded this year that it’s not a solution that everyone can follow. Everyone should be able to follow it, but circumstances may prevent them, at least in the interim. Sometimes people are so down the depression hole that it can be difficult for them to simply get out the bed. Telling them to get more sleep and go workout is inconsiderate at best, insulting at worse.

I never thought I would have two close friends who are currently on antidepressants. I’m not saying this because of the supposed stigma with pills, or that I think the two friends are somehow failures by going on them (far from it). People give an outside appearance of being well-adjusted and highly functioning, so it’s a surprise to find out they are in therapy and on pills. From an egoic standpoint I had the impression that all my friends are thriving and happy. If we are indeed the sum of the people we surround ourselves with, what does the two friends’ predicament say about me?

I’ve certainly been depressed before. I read my way out of it, with many philosophical and self-help books. I guess my baseline was not low enough to require medical assistance, though talking things over with a therapist would no doubt have helped. The anxiety and depression is so bad for my two friends that they need pills to function normally, to feel like they’re not drowning. I am glad they are getting the help they need. I hope with therapy and the antidepressants, they will then be able to fix the underlying issues causing the problem.

Only after that can proper diet, good sleep, and frequent exercise enter into the chat.

One thing I realized this year is how incredibly close and tight knit our friend group is. The support we give each other is amazing. If you need help, someone is there to give it. Moving to a new place? We’ve got your labor covered. Need someone to watch the kids while you go to a wedding? We got your back. The local DMV’s card reader failed suddenly? A friend will bring cash while you are still in line. That last one is me, by the way: I was the one stuck in line without any cash.

Some of us also got into the habit of meeting up for lunch every Friday. A happy bookend to the workweek before the weekend fun commences. We are lucky to have jobs that allow for such frivolousness – leaving for up to two hours for lunch. On the flip side, the morale boost we get from connecting with each other more than offset any supposed loss in productive hours. I think my supervisor sees the value of me skipping out in the middle of every Friday.

The vaunted work-life balance that people want, a huge component to that is being able to spend time with your friends and family. And a huge component to that is being generous of yourself. Give your time and money freely to the people important to you. Whatever you’re currently focused on is almost always less important. Even for me, someone who is known to keep a rigid schedule, have learned to drop everything and be there for friends when called upon.

And it doesn’t have to be an emergency. One of the best nights this year was getting ice cream with my friend and another friend’s dog during a particularly hot evening. My piano practice could wait another day. Doing stuff with the people you love breaks up the monotony of life. That rock will still be there the next day for you to push up the hill, Sisyphus.

Because you will miss it when it’s gone. It’s easy to think this is all static, and everything we cherish today will still be here tomorrow. Of course, that is not the case. I’m acutely aware of this when I hang out with one of my friend’s young kids. I see them on a weekly basis, and it’s kind of amazing to see them change in front of my eyes. The quirks of last week may be gone this week, replaced with another one. Last week you could still kiss them goodbye, but this week the older one thinks that’s too yucky for a boy his age.

The lesson I take from that is to slow down and take notice. Get your head out of your smartphone and smell the proverbial flowers. Be quick to forgive people’s minor faults and embrace their quirks. What you think may be annoying today, you will definitely miss if it were gone tomorrow. My mother lost her mother (my grandmother, naturally) this year. From that I’ve learned to accept the relationship I have with my mother. I may not like her constant nagging, but I know for damn sure I’ll forever miss it when she is gone.

Hopefully not for a very long time.  

Of the many books I read this year, the biggest impact on me is Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. The book can be distilled down to one word: excellence. To live a life of excellence, in all domains, in everything you do. From the biggest thing down to the littlest detail. As important as a semester-long work project, or as simple as brushing your teeth. Perform it all with an eye towards excellence. You owe it to yourself to do the very best, and the outside world benefits from it as well.

I correlate excellence to a Japanese tea ceremony. On paper it’s seems an incredibly mundane task: making a cup of tea. The Japanese have ritualized and perfected it into an art form. Every detail matter, from how the cup is placed, to the folding of the napkin that wipes away the excess drip. I witness one such ceremony during the annual cherry blossom festival in Japantown, and the impact have stuck with me to this day.

I try to replicate that kid of dedication and ritualism in all areas of my life. For example: when I make my morning cup of Keurig coffee, I am in full concentration. I feel the lifting action of the lid, the placing of the cup, and the pressing of buttons. It’s a mechanism to keep me in the present and paying attention to it. I am not scrolling through stuff on my phone while the machine is running. Making coffee in it of itself is the point, and not merely a thing to get over with to get to the next task.

I wouldn’t call it Zen, but I am calmer, and it keeps me from speed-running through life. That’s what I like to carry forward to the new year, along with the other positive changes mentioned above.

2022 was kind of a serendipitous year: everything I needed sort of appeared at the right time. Like that time when I had to replace the windshield on my BMW M2. I was somewhat sulking about the unexpected monetary outlay, until a few days later when my boss informed me I’ve been put in for a raise. What are the odds? I don’t know how to explain it: many such good coincidences, big and small, occurred throughout the year.

Obviously I’m not counting on that luck to follow onto 2023. However, I do know what to do to make a year great. Focus on the few core things: spend time with friends and family, read many books, study Korean, practice piano, write on this website, sleep well, eat right, and exercise frequently. For the rest, I will just go with the flow and accept things as they come. I wish you all the very best.


Top 10 songs of 2022

1. NewJeans - Hype Boy
2. NewJeans - Attention
3. aespa - 도깨비불 (Illusion)
4. LE SSERAFIM - Blue Flame
5. STAYC - 색안경 (STEREOTYPE)
6. ITZY - Cheshire
7. Red Velvet - 롤러코스터 On A Ride
8. Jay Park - GANADARA (feat. IU)
9. Nayeon - POP!
10. Seulgi - Bad Boy, Sad Girl (feat. BE'O)