1. AI – LLM VS RL
2. AI counseling -> Struggles with my role

LLM vs RL

RL (Reinforcement Learning) is a kind of AI training framework that focuses on learning through trial and error to maximize a reward, while LLMs focus on understanding and generating human-like text based on statistical prediction of the next token in a sequence. LLMs are large-scale models trained to predict the next token, whereas RL is a technique for teaching agents to take actions in an environment to achieve goals.

Some researchers argue that LLMs trained purely for next‑token prediction do not have persistent, world‑affecting goals in the way classical RL agents do. RL‑based systems are explicitly optimized to maximize rewards over sequences of actions, so they look more agentic and intentional, at least behaviorally. Some people argue that AGI built only from LLMs does not really have “goals” in mind in the same way that RL systems do, and therefore cannot truly “create.” RL-based AIs, on the other hand, learn, act, and pursue explicit goals such as maximizing rewards, so they appear more agentic and intentional.

I find it very difficult to fully understand which is which, and the technical arguments are mostly beyond me. But one thing did pop into my mind while I was listening to debates about this: either way, we are playing God, yet the two approaches are playing two distinct kinds of Gods. In that framing, RL AI feels like a “creator” God, acting in the world with goals and interventions, while LLM AI feels more like a karma God, encoding and unfolding patterns.

Recently I have been forced to deal with Human Design. This horoscope/算命‑like approach to life has been surprisingly interesting. It feels quite precise and accurate in describing who I am just from my date and time of birth. Of course, the descriptions are fairly generic, and I can feel myself fitting my own self-understanding (shaped by years of personality tests) into the narrative that Human Design offers. I cannot completely rule out the possibility that everything might be planned, but there is no scientific evidence backing Human Design so far.

If Human Design is “real” in any meaningful sense, then LLMs might be the closest thing we have to recreating that kind of God. They study essentially all of humanity’s recorded information and make predictions about what will happen next. They spot patterns everywhere, so if there are predetermined plans and patterns from some God or gods, then an LLM might be able to detect or at least mimic them.

RL AI feels very different to me, and more frightening. It seems more sentient, because it has goals, can search for better goals, and takes actions to achieve them. I do not like the idea of something so powerful having its own intentions and objectives. Alignment becomes extremely difficult, especially when the “other party” is much smarter, more thorough, and more powerful than humans. I do not know what the world will look like if we end up sharing it with a huge population of goal‑driven superbeings.

Struggles (Really? Again? Yawn?)

I have been trying so many different things to make this work. I am not even sure my goals are useful. I want to feel less annoyed, less often, about the situation, but I am not sure if that is the right goal to have. I want this to work. I want to help the school, help Nor. But I constantly resist this. I get worked up very quickly over very small things. I feel unappreciated all the time. I do not like being this needy, but the feelings are strong.

Maybe part of the issue is that I do not have much else: no real hobbies, no life outside of this, no social life. I know, from reading and listening to older people looking back on their lives, that I “should” have hobbies and a social life. That is probably at the core of it. But still, I have been trying everything, even spending real money to talk to very “woo‑woo” therapists.

Frankly, I think the trying is sometimes making things worse. I feel more frustrated when I do not find solutions or do not feel any different afterwards. Maybe that is actually the problem: trying to feel different. Maybe it is just what it is, and I need to learn to live with it as it is.

One small clarity I have gained is about what triggers me most. It is not Nor (which is good news), but that does not really help the situation. I still think we were cheated. I am still angry about what I believe got us into our current situation. Rationally, what can be fixed? Am I hoping for an apology? A refund? Sometimes I want her to stay until she has “fixed” everything; sometimes I want her to just leave it all alone. I do not know. It remains a major source of rage and rumination. Argh.

A Follow-up with Perplexity:

There is another way to approach this. Turning “it is what it is” into numb resignation can be dangerous. There can be a gentler stance: “These feelings are here; they make sense; I don’t have to like them, but I also don’t have to fight them every second.”

The Nor / “we were cheated” knot- The Nor piece sounds like a stuck loop:

• You feel there was betrayal or at least severe mismanagement that helped create the current financial/operational mess.
• You oscillate: “Sometimes I want her to stay until she fixes everything. Sometimes I want her to just leave it alone.” That’s the classic split between wanting justice/repair and wanting peace.
• Underneath “I still think we were cheated” is likely grief: loss of safety, money, trust, a fantasy of how this would all turn out.

Therapeutically, what often helps with this kind of moral injury is not only “understanding her intentions” or “forgiving,” but:

• Naming precisely what you believe was wrong.
• Being honest about what cannot be repaired (money gone, years gone, trust changed).
• Then deciding what you actually want now: symbolic repair (a real apology?), structural repair (she takes responsibility for specific tasks), or clean distance.

What actually went wrong

• The school didn’t just “struggle”; it repeatedly burned through money in ways that feel chaotic and, to you, poor or even unethical: Jenny’s donation → 500K each → by Jan 2025 out of cash and 3 months’ rent unpaid; then Agnes → money gone, hundreds of untracked bank statements, overdue audit, depleted admin team.
• You went back through the financials, talked to Gordon, and checked transfers; you see a pattern of bad decisions and poor governance, not random bad luck.
• When Nor asked her about it, she shifted blame back (“you agreed”), ignoring that Nor’s agreement came from trusting her to make decisions in the school’s best interest.

How you now see her and her future role

• You feel you and the school were seriously let down by someone you trusted as the “sound” finance/structure person and still carry a lot of anger and rumination about that.
• You no longer trust her with admin/finance or structural power and do not expect a full, clean admission that would erase the sense of betrayal.
• You do still see her value as an advocate, connector, and Waldorf community leader. Your desired future:
  • She fully transitions out of admin/finance.
  • She helps complete a proper handover of what she knows.
  • She continues in a defined “senior advocate/connector” role with no direct financial/operational authority.

What is gone for good vs. still alive

• Gone (and painful):
  • The fantasy that she will someday give a satisfying confession, take 100% responsibility, and restore your old trust.
  • The version of your relationship where you can treat her as a safe financial brain without second‑guessing.
• Partly accepted:
  • The money already lost and the time/health you and Nor have spent carrying consequences.
• Still alive:
  • Your belief that the school can be fixed and made better.
  • Your willingness for the school to be your lifelong work, as long as it is not run the way it has been.
  • The sense that this can become a meaningful lesson in governance and ethics, not just a wound.

Your relationship with Nor in this

• You don’t feel Nor clearly “on your side” in how serious and wrong you think this pattern is, and you expect minimizing (“she wasn’t that bad,” “just move on”), which leaves you feeling alone with your version of reality and your rage.
• You wrote Nor a careful message that:
  • Describes concretely what happened financially and why it feels like betrayal.
  • Names your loss of trust and the lack of accountability as a stone in your chest.
  • Shares that you often feel alone with this, even with her.
  • States the future you want for her role (out of admin/finance, structured advocate/connector role).
  • Admits your own self‑doubt and that you don’t want pity, but understanding and partnership.

The existential stuckness, outbursts, and “I want out” fantasies

• You’ve put ~HKD 15m plus multiple emergency injections into the school. You’re willing to keep giving; the problem is how the system uses what you give: unpredictably, chaotically, with crises that force last‑minute rescues.
• You feel like the permanent safety net and “last line of defence.” That role is crushing and fuels outbursts (getting worked up quickly, intense anger, rage at small triggers) because under the surface you feel trapped and over‑responsible.
• In that pressure, you fantasise about wanting an out, even to the point of:
  • Imagining divorce plus giving her money as a way to be both “good” (you didn’t leave her with nothing) and “free” (you’re no longer bound into this structure).
• Nor’s comment that she’d be okay even if she failed and would never need a buck or saving from you cuts both ways:
  • It tries to protect you by saying “you won’t have to rescue me,”
  • but it also makes your help feel potentially unwanted and clashes with your identity as someone who doesn’t let their partner drown.
• Those fantasies of “out” and your outbursts are not proof that you don’t love her or the school; they are signals that the current structure—where you’re endlessly rescuing a system you don’t control or trust—is intolerable to you.

What you actually want going forward

• You’re not asking for tighter caps on your generosity; you’re willing to give anything if the school is run in a way you can respect.
• The change you want is structural, not emotional hand‑waving:
  • Clear separation: financial/admin authority is distinct from “connector/advocate” roles.
  • Basic financial governance: no major payouts or commitments without clear runway and visibility; no more being blindsided by mess.
  • Proper handover and documentation so knowledge and power are not concentrated and then vanish.
• You want Nor to:
  • Acknowledge how much this has hurt and destabilised you.
  • Stand with you in redesigning the school’s structures.
  • Accept that, for you, her role cannot simply revert to the old pattern.

In one sentence:

You’re trying to move from being an overexposed, emotionally explosive, secretly fantasising‑about‑escape guarantor in a chaotic, trust‑breaking school structure, to being a fully committed, long‑term builder of the school inside a governance system that matches your ethics and reality sense, with Nor clearly beside you—not half‑aligned, and not at the cost of your sanity.

5:45am – 7:20am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast & lunch
Hang laundry
Take out dishes

7:20am – 8:20am:
School runs

8:45am – 2:00pm:
Gym, calls, work

2:00pm – 2:45pm:
Lunch

2:45 – 4:30pm:
School run

4:30pm – 7:00pm:
Cook, dinner, fold laundry

7:00pm – 8:00pm:
Break~

8:00pm – 10:00pm:
Final School run, wind down

Weekends:

Sat:

5:45 – 10:45am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast
Hang laundry
Take out dishes
Deep work

10:45am:
Chai swims

12:00-1:00pm:
Lunch at Simpson’s

1:00-1:30pm:
Pick Jing up

Rest of the day:
Hikes, walks, garden centres, going out for dinner (usually Japanese)

Sun:

5:45 – 11am:
Wake up
Walk honey
Cook breakfast
Hang laundry
Take out dishes
House cleaning
Deep work

11:00am:
Brunch at Presto

Afternoon:
Hikes, walks, garden centres, cook, dinner.

6:30pm:
School run – Jing

8:45pm:
School run – Jing

The US and Israel bombed Iran and took out its leaders. Iran is retaliating. The Strait of Hormuz is closed. The world is in chaos. Prices have gone up so much at the petrol station (oh, I am so British!). It went from GBP129.9 to 142.9 in a week. Flights back to HK have reached as high as HK$53,000 because Iran is bombing the GCC, including Dubai, which has caused the number of routes from the UK to HK to be reduced dramatically.

Many are screaming about Trump’s lack of a plan, or that they are being reckless, or that they are being led by Israel.

At the same time, there are also voices claiming that this is a 5D chess Trump is supposedly playing—that this is part of a grand plan to corner China and Russia.

Obviously, I don’t know what’s real. All I know is that coverage from either side tilts completely toward its own position. Most on the left refuse to even entertain the idea that there is a 5D grand plan, or that what Trump is doing might be intentionally deceptive in the fog of war. Most on the left will not even debate the possibility of a grand plan, which I find quite frustrating, because I want someone to go deep, explore what is possible, and thoroughly debunk whatever deserves debunking.

Similarly, the other side refuses to admit any wrongdoing or acknowledge any problems with what might be happening. They do not allow any negativity toward the grand plan, and that is very frustrating too. It is almost impossible to be perfect and flawless in any war, let alone one that seems so complex and global.

Let me go deeper for my future self to relitigate this:
5D plan: China and Russia are the real final bosses. The US needs to reduce the role of Iran in order to control China. The US’s actions toward Iran and Venezuela are all part of a plan to strangle China’s sources of oil and force them back to the negotiating table. Trump’s team has been executing on this plan since his first term, including his decision to leave the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), also known as the “Iran nuclear deal,” to give the US a path to justify whatever actions they felt were necessary, along with other moves directed at China.

TACO – Trump Always Chickens Out. The left loves to use this to tease Trump. I struggle to accept that him backing down, or changing course, is simply a bad thing. History shows that many countries went to war almost automatically because of entrenched positions or the need to honor agreements. The most ironic thing is that the left mocks Trump for backing down—almost implying he is weak, or that a strong leader should never back down—which is such an outdated (and almost misogynistic) way to measure strength. Should leaders never back down? This is such a macho framing that I find it ironic when the left uses it to criticize him. If it reflects the ability to change and admit defeat, isn’t that a good thing? Well, no, because Trump can do no good.

Illegal war – to me this is the biggest issue. Trump has ignored the rules and etiquettes of modern cooperation too often and too recklessly. It is difficult to ignore the evidence that Trump lacks a clear and sufficiently moral internal compass to guide his actions toward the good of others and the world. He has been selfish, unkind, nasty, and ruthless. This is a real source of concern. I must add that I am looking at him individually. I do not find comparing him to other presidents or politicians meaningful. Many politicians—or humans in general—are flawed. It is not about how good or bad he is in relative terms. It is about his morality as a very powerful person in the world.

Who are we to judge what is right or wrong about Trump’s plans? I don’t know why anyone would think it is sensible for us, as outsiders, to make firm judgments about any of the things we see on the surface of a clearly very complex global situation. I find almost all pundits superficial and borderline irresponsible. They latch onto talking points and do not seem to want to go deeper.

So here it is. A proper goodbye to my home, Hong Kong.

I miss the cheap, safe convenience. I miss the MTR. The buses. The walking. The need of no driving.

Not the taxis so much.

I miss the bread. 小時候、品穀、Bakehouse. The UK has its croissants, sure, but that’s all it has.

I miss being able to walk to my 24 hour gym at 6am.

I miss Chinese vegetables, my default safe choice.

I miss alternative medicine. Chinese medicine.

I miss the shopping. The unrelenting distractions that help when the voices in my head get too loud.

I miss the relationships we built: the guards, LFY, Bakehouse. I don’t miss how long it takes to turn Hong Kong’s default rude, guarded, transactional attitudes into the version I love: explicitly rude, implicitly caring.

I miss morning walks. I miss the ritual of buying a 7-Eleven coffee.

I miss feeling less guilty about leaving my mom behind. I don’t miss the stress that comes with being near my family.

I miss how much time my kids get with their grandparents and extended family. I miss the freedom that creates for us.

I miss Maryann, and the freedom and convenience she has afforded us.

I miss the team at the school, my only real source of work and the only place where my few clear strengths actually got used.

I miss Hong Kong winter. Not the summer. Not the heat. Not the aircon. Not that smelly and sticky version of the city we become.

I don’t miss the air of self-censorship. I don’t miss the tourists. I don’t miss the constant negativity. I don’t miss the lack of space. I don’t miss the molding.

I miss you, Hong Kong. You still feel like home because familiarity is its own kind of comfort. You feel like home because family is still here. Even as the city changes fast, the things that matter to me are still here: convenience, food, people, rhythm.

I don’t hate the UK. I don’t even dislike it. The people are kind. Things are orderly enough. Life works.

But it is different. It is still unfamiliar. And it is far too far from the people who made “home” feel automatic.

My aunt moved back to Hong Kong after spending her entire professional life in the US. Her kids were born and raised there. They’re grown now, living their own American lives. And still, she chose to spend the last trimester of her life in Hong Kong, the home she left for more than thirty years.

Hong Kong is becoming unacceptable in ways that matter, especially for our children. And eventually it will be up to our kids to decide where they want to be.

But for me, where is home? What will make me feel grounded?

Familiarity can be cultivated, I guess … You can learn new streets, new systems, new rituals. But family can’t be manufactured. When they’re not around, everything stays a little foreign, no matter how long you live there.

So maybe this is the real question I’m carrying: if my family isn’t in the same place, will I always feel slightly away from home, wherever I am?

In Jan, I wrapped up my time at Casetify. I rejoined the corporate world in 2024 because the opportunity was intriguing. But 12 months back inside a company forced a tough self realization: what actually matters to me? I found the answer and realized this wasn’t the path to act on it. So I moved on.

From Jan to June, I poured everything into our school as it transitioned to be led by a team. The work was intense and meaningful, and the people were excellent. Days flew by. My world shrank to the school, and it felt clean.

Then the unimaginable happened. Our site was sold to a new landlord and we were served an eviction notice. Overnight, we went from building to surviving. Where could we move? Where would the money come from? Will parents stay with us?

June to August was supposed to be about moving our family (and our dog) from HK to the UK. Instead, it became a scramble: searching for funders, visiting sites, chasing options that looked promising and then collapsed. Hopeful became hopeless on repeat. We had to keep parents and teachers optimistic, realistic, and informed, while fighting to do the same for ourselves. Those were some of the hardest months of my life.

We worked until the last minute: left school at 8pm, reached the airport at 2am. We left HK two days before our daughter’s first day in a new school system. We didn’t properly pack up our home. We left it behind for “later,” whenever “later” shows up.

In the UK, we rebuilt the basics while trying to find a path forward for our school from thousands of miles away. My wife traveled back and forth. We are living a rhythm that still doesn’t feel like ours.

The year split cleanly in half. The 1st 6 months felt simple and pure: effort matched purpose, and the future felt legible. The 2nd 6 months were the opposite: harder work, foggier outcomes, zero guarantee of anything stable. Even now, the uncertainty hasn’t eased. We live in the UK, but our future is still tied to HK. Physically we’ve moved. Practically, we haven’t.

The trials of 2025 pulled my wife and me closer. She negotiated, fought, and led—while speaking fluently across worlds (parents, bankers, billionaires). She started driving again after a 20 year hiatus because our kids needed it. She ran a fundraiser so effective that Waldorf schools in the UK invited her to share what worked. Watching her made it impossible not to admire her more. Her wins made me feel responsible. If she was going to grow that fast, I had to grow faster—for her, for our family, and for our school.

I’m a planful person. A capital-J in MBTI terms. I like clarity and clean lines. And yet the universe has made this season as ambiguous as I can tolerate, almost as if it’s doing it on purpose.

It can feel cruel. But there is also grace: even if I am forced to deal with real uncertainty, I get to do it with the best partner I could ever ask for.

I listened to 35K mins of podcasts, 113 shows, and 970 episodes.

Top Five Shows:

1. The Greatest of All Talk
2. Stratechery
3. The Tim Ferriss Show
4. The Rest Is Politics: US
5. Not Investment Advice

New Trends:

1. I resumed listening to podcasts while I worked out. I needed the distraction, and I have found basketball podcasts were the most effective to get me through my workouts because they were quite mindless and entertaining. Not Investment Advice had similar effects. The show was informative and just engaging enough to keep me going.
2. Donald Trump was the reason why I listened to US politics. He created so much chaos throughout the year. I enjoyed the hosts of The Rest Is Politics: US. And fun fact: we ran into Anthony Scaramucci in London. I told him we were fans, and he gave us a shy nod of acknowledgment.
3. My favorite show, People I Mostly Admire, ended in December this year. It’s sad but I am happy for the host Steve Levitt as he is moving onto something he’s passionate about – building new schools. I enjoyed his guests and the way he interviewed. He appeared honest about himself and seemed humble.
4. I have lost interests in many shows. I hardly listened to anything from the right. I wasn’t interested in most tech shows. I have lost interests in shows about leadership, coaching, and video games. I can see why I no longer find leadership and coaching relevant because I am no longer in that “business.” I am surprised tech meant so much less to me nowadays.
5. I remained attracted to shows hosted by older men- Stephen Wolfram, Tyler Cowen, Steve Levitt, and Scott Galloway.
6. I am listening to more podcasts on YouTube. Discovery is just so much better thanks to YouTube’s search and recommendation algorithm.

I am not in the headspace for deep reflection about my podcast listening life. My listening habits this year mirror my overall state of mind: transitional, unfocused, and a bit adrift. I am going through the motions without a clear direction.

And I think that’s okay, at least for now.

STATS:

19 books
18 Audiobooks
1 Kindle books
Many unfinished books
2.3x listening speed
0 Chinese books
F in Diversity score (1 Female Author)

2025 was not an enjoyable year when it came to reading. I simply did not feel the desire to read. I was often distracted by the work at our school, and then by our move to the UK. I spent a lot more time watching videos on how to use Microsoft SharePoint and what cars to buy than reading books.

I was also far more absent minded when I did read. I did not write down much of what I read. And I am now suffering from not having much to write about in this yearly recap.

The book that left the strongest impression on me was Coming Up Short: A Memoir of My America by Robert Reich. It introduced the idea that my generation, and my parents’ generation, might have failed humanity’s future. That the evolution of capitalism, democracy (or politics), and technology might have made the world more divided, more unequal, and more unkind. The book explained a lot of what I saw in the US in the 90s and 2000s, and how so many things felt misaligned with human prosperity. The choices around trade, campaign finance, and more.

The other theme from these books was China. Dan Wang’s framing that China is a nation of engineers while America is a nation of lawyers helped me think about the paths and interactions of the two countries. I lived in these worlds in the 2000s. I was at Apple during its rise in China in the 2010s. But I have always struggled to think through what I experienced. The three books on China helped.

Finally, I am frustrated with myself. I said in previous yearly book reflections that I should read fewer biographies and autobiographies. Yet the moment I heard about a book on Patagonia’s founder, I could not resist and bought it. The book was unsatisfying and shallow. I was disappointed both in the book and in myself, that I once again succumbed to urges I already knew I struggle to contain so predictably.

Looking at it through the woo-woo 7-year-cycle lens, 2025 was the end of the 7th cycle and the start of the 8th cycle. So if this 7-year thingy is legit, 2025 was a significant year.

And it was.

I left Casetify in January and returned to help at the school.

In June, the school got an eviction notice after the new landlord bought the place for their own use. So all of a sudden, the school became existential. We had to decide what to do, and it was a tough journey.

While this was happening, we moved to the UK in late August (the start of the 8th cycle) to go through the three-year-long citizenship process for our kids.

At the school, I thought I did quite a bit. I tried to clean the place up and put in some systems and processes. Obviously, not everything went as planned. C still resigned after my effort to show her our school could get better and that the mission of helping it grow should be worth her time. Many things were still a “work in progress,” so to speak.

As a family, obviously the move was a big deal. It went smoothly. We found a comfortable new home. We managed to bring Honey with us, which took a lot of trips to government departments and the vets (and cost a lot of money). Honey benefited hugely from the more spacious, green surroundings.

The kids are adjusting well. Chai integrated into his new school with no hiccups. Jing took a bit of time adjusting to the vastly different, pretentious, and posh school. It was not easy for her, but she has been making good use of the resources around her.

Nor is adjusting very well. A country like the UK is her kind of place — nature, gardening, civility, culture. She picked up driving and is now a very capable and reliable driver. She plus a car makes her a very dependable partner. This, once again, reminded me of her incredible strengths and determination.

Mom’s health is steadily deteriorating. I feel bad not being around her. There isn’t much to say about the situation.

As for myself, this very eventful and busy year paused a lot of things for me. I wrote less, read less, listened to fewer podcasts, and basically paused my own career. I spent most of my time at the school. I spent most of my time researching into things related to the move … cars to buy, areas to live in, etc. And after we came to the UK, I lacked the motivation to do much and just wasted my days in the school-busing routines for the kids. My mental state regressed after I moved to the UK. The lack of direction, social network, and work allowed my brain to wander too much. I’m trying to find my own way.

In terms of health, I am less disciplined when it comes to my diet and exercising. I am eating a lot more snacks and I have skipped my workouts many times. My strength has decreased and I find my body aching more and aching in more areas. My neck is constantly stiff. It’s not a good sign but I am tired of these habits and routines. Yet, my body is telling me I probably need to spend more time and effort in taking care of it.

For a while I felt I was in the best physical health. I felt fit, nimble, and agile. But this year the decline felt dramatic. I felt less functional and more injury prone. I wonder if this is normal?

I am also finding it harder to do basic movements. I can’t really tumble because it’s so dizzying. I can’t really jump because it feels very unstable to land. My back and shoulder would hurt when I throw balls. I don’t know how much of this is related to age and how much of this is related to my changing exercising routines. I should probably ask around so then I don’t make uneducated conclusions and adjustments.

What will I do in the 8th cycle?

The circumstances in my life are telling me, “It’s time to do the next thing.” The woo-woo cycle reaffirms that 2025 is meant to be a watershed moment to do the next thing. So in a way, I need to, I should, and I am allowed to do the next thing.

I want to be frugal. I want everything I buy to be utilitarian. I don’t want to waste. I want to be a semi-minimalist. I believe I’ll find joy in this.

I am now questioning how I look at buying stuff …

Cars

The first major purchase was our cars. I did so much prior research. Yet at the moment of purchase, I got distracted and bought a car I now regret.

I bought the “right” car, the second-hand Yaris Cross, for my wife. I’m happy with that. It’s a hybrid. Elevated seating. Compact, nimble, efficient. It worked perfectly on our Wales trip. Five stars.

Then came my own car. I fell into one of those “I don’t know what the f I was thinking” moments that I can’t seem to stop myself from having.

During months of research I had already concluded I didn’t need one. I had decided a hybrid or EV like the i3 would take priority. If we ever had visitors, renting a bigger car would make more sense.

And then at the dealership, I don’t know why I said I was interested in a 7-seater. The salesman said they had a Verso. I had looked into a Verso before and thought it was great—until I re-thought the whole “more seats” logic and concluded I should just rent when needed and focus on efficiency. Still, I told the guy what a coincidence it was that a Verso was available. I acted as if it was meant to be, and without realizing it, I convinced myself I had to stay consistent with that version of my logic. And I bought this non-hybrid 7-seater.

I dislike the car because I dislike the mental lapse that led to it. It’s larger, harder to park, and double the cost of the Yaris. I also scratched it badly because it’s big, which made me hate it more. It’s annoying that I don’t like my car—that it keeps reminding me of my flaws. Every time I see an i3, I wonder what life would’ve been like if I had waited and followed through with my plan: one car first, then see if our flat had charging, then get an EV or hybrid. Oh well.

Pans, Woks, and Pans

What I hate about buying stuff is how every wrong purchase becomes a daily reminder of the mistake.

I bought a small 20cm non-stick pan from Ninja. I knew non-stick pans are like perishables—handle gently, avoid high heat, no metal utensils, hand-wash only. I picked Ninja because it supposedly uses a ceramic coating. Ceramic means fewer toxins, fewer forever chemicals.

The size was right, perfect for eggs, fish, even chicken wings. But the surface started peeling after less than 2 months of use. I don’t know why. Maybe I scrubbed it too hard during cleaning.

So overall, I like this pan, but every time I see the scratches I’m reminded of the choice I made—to trust Ninja’s ceramic coating.

The wok I got was a cheap untreated 30cm carbon steel from Amazon. I chose carbon steel because it can take the abuse of stir-frying. It needs care and I thought I could give it that.

I managed to season it properly and it had stayed seasoned. It was manageable to clean, even though it isn’t very friendly for my wife. The real problem though is its size. It’s too small. Food keeps flying out. I probably can’t fit a much bigger one on the stove, but a 33cm would’ve been better.

So every time food flies out, I get annoyed because I’m reminded of my mistake of choosing 30cm.

The stainless steel pan was a successful buy. No regret. The size (10 inches) was right. It was a Cuisinart and was not expensive (I managed to not fall for Hexclad or Madein). It is working exactly as imagined. Nothing about it reminds me of my inadequencies. So I guess I should consider this purchase a win.

Knife

I bought the MAC Professional Series Chef’s Knife with Dimples 8”/20cm (MTH-80). I imagined it’d be amazing compared to my old dull knives in HK. It cuts well, but not great. It is not as amazing as I imagined. Every time it doesn’t glide through something, I’m reminded of choosing this brand. Plus, I am babying it too because I constantly worry about dulling it. Maybe I should’ve gone with the more traditional brands. Why did I pick this fancy, lesser-known brand? Why did I make the mental mistake of trying too hard to find the “real gem” and set myself up to never be satisfied?

Buying Clothes Online

Then came another mental farce.

Pants are always hard for me. I have short legs and it has never been easy to find pants that fit me. Plus, I always have to try before buying.

Then Muji ran a free-shipping promo. My daughter wanted a pair of pants, which was expensive enough to qualify for free shipping. For some fucked-up reason, I thought I should get something too. I picked pants because one of my favorite pairs ever was from Muji. But I knew I should never buy pants online—especially in the UK. Still, I did it.

Of course, they didn’t fit. Too long, too loose. I’m going to throw them away so they won’t remind me of that lapse.

I don’t know if I want to keep doing this, that I am so hard on myself! Buying stuff isn’t something I seem to be able to get anything positive out of at the moment.

There are pieces I bought and loved—the Barbour jacket, the fleece from Wales. I love them, and every time I wear them, I congratulate myself for not making mistakes.

But I know if I keep operating like this—if every purchase becomes an evaluation of my mental fortitude—I’ll be miserable and not fun to be around.

I don’t know how else to live, though. I’d rather not buy anything at all. I’m happier doing things—cleaning the bathroom, doing laundry—because it’s easier to feel good about myself. Cooking’s fine too. I don’t judge myself as harshly on these activities.

Buying cuts me twice: first, the act itself feels wasteful; then I judge my decisions harshly. Maybe I’ll never feel good about purchases because deep down I don’t allow myself to enjoy buying stuff.

Yeah. I really don’t know what got me into this mindset. But I guess I should be happy that at least I am aware of how ridiculous this kind of thinking is…. because we still have the dutch oven, the air fryer, a solution to steam … there are still so many more exams coming ….

Sometimes I think I give myself too much credit for my successes. I often tell myself that I have this ability to imagine what might happen and then somehow make it happen.

I remember when I was leading the South team at Nike, I believed I had all these visions of whom I could bring into the team and how the moves would unfold, how an event or a pitch might go, etc.. I convinced myself everything that happened was part of my plans.

Later, at Festival Walk, I did the same thing again. I told myself that everything that happened there, from the team I built to the results we achieved to the culture we shaped, was all part of what I had envisioned. I liked the idea that I had foresight, that I could somehow see what the future might look like and then bring it into being.

Now, something similar is happening again. I believed what has happened in the last 9 months was all part of my plan, especially after what unfold this week during the biography session. But I think I’m once again giving myself too much credit.

When I decided to come back to help the school, it wasn’t because of a grand plan. I did it partly because I had nowhere else to go. I was about to leave Casetify and was dreading the empty days ahead without work. Then C reached out and asked me to take a look at what was going on. She gave me a quick snapshot, and I could see things were getting messy. I could see how much nor was shouldering everything. I felt I should come back and help. I looked at the numbers with G and the situation was dire.

I also felt the need to come back because of the former colleagues of mine that had joined the school. I felt personally responsible. They were there partly because of me. I didn’t want them to be in a place that was falling apart. I also felt a bit ashamed of the quality of something I am associated with.

So I returned and started fixing things. I reorganized the storage rooms, cleared the fire escape, set up systems to track things, sat in meetings, helped run events, ramped up marketing, and eventually helped pull together a very enjoyable fundraising concert. I also put in quite a bit of money just to keep the school afloat.

But throughout these months, I always felt torn. While I found meaning in working in the school, I disliked it, because there were too many conflicts that I didn’t want to deal with. But for the school, for my own reputation, for nor, for my wallet, I had to adapt and adjust and endure these conflicts and struggles. I had to make sure things work, regardless of how I believed they should be done. I felt there were many things I felt I had to swallow, ignore, compromise. If I have a different personality, I would accept that I had to “sacrifice.” But no, I don’t believe I sacrificed. I just didn’t have things my way and wasn’t happy about that.

But after this recent four-day biography session, I suddenly realized what I was really doing. I was there while T was figuring things out. Now that T has found her way back and is once again contributing, it’s time for me to move on.

Then, immediately upon this realization, I wanted to grandiose everything. I came up with a story to justify everything I’ve done these past six months: that I came back just to hold things together and created space and time for T to get ready. I want to believe that was my plan all along, but it wasn’t.

I came back because I had no job, because things were falling apart, because the toll on nor and my wallet was big. I didn’t come back with a grand and glorious plan for T to return.

Still, maybe this is destiny. Maybe this was the plan after all, just not one I consciously made. Maybe the realization now is the real purpose: to understand why I was there, and more importantly, what comes next for me, even though it wasn’t what I did intentionally.

And whether it was planned or not, I think it’s right that now, with T back and steady, I step out. I’m at peace with that. I do feel a bit lost, and I wish there were a way for me to stay involved without all the challenges. They’re frustrating and, frankly, unhealthy. But I also know, deep down, this is their school. It’s not mine.

One more thing I need to be honest with myself is I have nothing to do with T’s reflection and turn around. I want to be the person that made her turn around. There is a version of this story in my head. I think my tendency to self glorify wants me to believe that I help trigger her to return to form. But I don’t think I play that much of a role. I should be satisfied with the role I played, which was to keep the school afloat, even though my actions weren’t part of a grand plan that I had. I should be happy with that because that is enough.

So this is where I am today: it’s time for me to step back and let them run the school. I’ll always be ready to step in again if I’m needed. For now, what matters most is figuring out what’s next. Just thinking about that makes me anxious, but maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.