After more than fifty years of experiencing life’s ups and downs, I have finally come to understand the profound importance of quieting down, reflecting, and learning how to truly love myself. It is only through self-love that we can genuinely love others.
“When I truly began to love myself, I started going to bed earlier and learned to enjoy exercise. I stopped getting lost in worries and anxieties. Instead, I became confident and pursued meaningful people and endeavors with passion. That was the moment my life truly began.”
Understanding another person is never easy. We must walk in their shoes, see the world through their eyes, and consider life from their perspective. Yet, this journey often brings sadness. But in that sadness, we discover clarity—we learn to focus on what truly matters.
Rather than wasting our time on trivial concerns and unfulfilling distractions, we should devote ourselves to nourishing pursuits: sleep, books, exercise, the beauty of nature, and, above all, the love we have for the world. When we consciously take control of our time, the tranquility of daily life emerges naturally, and anxiety fades away.
Kahlil Gibran once said, “If one day you stop searching for love and simply love; stop yearning for success and just do; stop pursuing empty growth and begin to cultivate your character, then your life will truly begin.” This wisdom reminds us that authentic living starts with our inner transformation.
Loving yourself means understanding that pain and emotional turmoil are often just reminders to live authentically. Unless it stems from physical illness, much of our suffering comes from misplaced values rather than objective reality. The things we cling to the most are often the very things that torment us, while those beyond our control are simply not worth our distress. True wisdom lies in knowing when to hold on and when to let go.
To be nurtured by others is a gift; to nurture others is an even greater act of cultivation.
May we have eyes that shine like stars, hearts as vast as the ocean, and lives that leave behind the fragrance of kindness wherever we go.
The Wisdom of Middle Age
Middle age teaches us the value of patience, restraint, and measured action. In our youth, we often equate eloquence with intelligence, only to later realize that true wisdom often lies in silence. As W. Somerset Maugham observed, “In a crowd, the quietest person is often the most powerful.”
In conversations, we should not rush to take center stage. Instead, we should listen more and speak less, exercising the grace of restraint. When others share, let us resist the urge to interrupt. When disagreements arise, let us not hastily refute. Instead of saying, “I think,” we can ask, “What do you think?” Instead of declaring, “You are wrong,” we can offer, “Perhaps there is another way to see this.” By replacing subjective judgment with open-minded awareness, we foster deeper understanding.
The world is not simply black and white. By speaking a beat slower and thinking a step faster, we cultivate clarity and wisdom in our lives.
In psychology, there is a concept called task separation: our emotions are our responsibility, while others’ reactions belong to them. The wisdom of softness lies in maintaining a gentle boundary between the two. It allows us to be vulnerable and to accept imperfection in ourselves and others. Harsh confrontation often leads to conflict, but a simple, “I understand your difficulties,” can resolve tensions effortlessly. As Alfred Adler wisely said, “True strength lies in the courage to expose one’s vulnerabilities.”
Try shifting from “I must win” to “We can solve this together.” Instead of “Why don’t you understand me?” consider, “Perhaps I need to express myself differently.” Softness is not weakness—it is a space that allows relationships to breathe and grow.
Kazuo Inamori once said, “What you hold in your heart is what you will encounter.” True generosity is not about calculated acts of kindness but instinctive goodwill. A small gesture—carrying a neighbor’s trash, offering a sincere compliment, or leaving a light on for a loved one—creates ripples that spread far beyond our immediate reach.
A generous heart does not tally whether kindness is repaid. As the Tao Te Ching states, “The more you give to others, the more you have yourself.” Every act of warmth we extend ultimately enriches our own lives.
As we journey through middle age, wisdom is cultivated through restraint. In youth, we may be like strong liquor—bold and fiery; with time, we become like fine tea—subtle yet deeply enriching. Speaking slowly allows us to reflect, gentleness fosters harmonious relationships, and generosity ensures lasting blessings.
These qualities of slow cultivation cannot be rushed or feigned. But with daily practice and yearly dedication, we will come to embody the depth of the old adage: “Still waters run deep.”
Peace LiLy 