5 posts tagged with "growth"

There is a common misconception in tech that the career ladder only goes in one direction: up. You become a senior engineer, then a lead, then a manager, and eventually a director.

For a long time, I followed that path. But recently, I asked myself a hard question: When was the last time I felt the pure joy of building?

As an Engineering Manager, I got used to having the answers. Or, at least, being the person who guided others to them. So, when I accepted a Software Engineer role at Mercari US and moved to Japan, I wasn't just changing time zones. I was changing who I was at work. And honestly? It feels like taking a deep breath after holding it for years.

But growth requires discomfort. I live in Ginza, surrounded by stunning autumn leaves during the current season and incredible food, yet I feel the friction of the unfamiliar. I don't speak Japanese yet. I went from being a manager who communicated for a living to a resident who struggles to order dinner. It’s humbling. It reminds me that expertise is contextual. In the code, I am fluent. On the street, I am a toddler.

The hardest adjustment isn't the job or the language. It’s the silence in my apartment. My girlfriend is back in Indonesia. People say, "Distance makes the heart grow fonder," but mostly, it just makes you realize how much you miss the small moments. Loving Tokyo is easy, but being here without her is the tricky part.

I’m realizing that my "new chapter" isn't just about working or living in Japan. It’s about learning to integrate these fragmented parts of myself...

Over the past few weeks, I have been working through The Almanack of Naval Ravikant, and it may be the most useful book I have read this year. One idea in particular keeps echoing: Naval's claim that life is, at its core, a single-player game.

The phrase is provocative because it ­repositions the burden of progress. In a single-player game the decisive moves are internal while the external world provides only the scenery and occasional obstacles. Society, by contrast, trains us for the multiplayer mode: we learn to seek status, negotiate group norms, and read social cues. Both modes matter, but the multiplayer emphasis can obscure the obvious that the joystick still rests in your own hands.

Framing life as primarily single-player doesn't deny community but for me it clarifies responsibility. You cultivate judgment, discipline, and original thought first, then bring those assets to the multiplayer arena. Seen this way, self-development is not self-indulgence but it is the prerequisite for meaningful contribution. Naval's point is simple but radical: master the single-player mechanics, and the multiplayer rounds take care of themselves.

The reality is life is a single-player game. You're born alone. You're going to die alone. All of your interpretations are alone. All your memories are alone. You're gone in three generations, and nobody cares. Before you showed up, nobody cared. It's all single player.

Naval Ravikant

Audio Overview​

The lotus flower has always captivated me, not only due to its visual beauty but also because of the profound symbolism it embodies. Gracefully emerging from murky, muddy waters, the lotus symbolizes personal growth, resilience, and transformation, representing the journey toward achieving clarity even amidst life's most challenging situations. Its beauty reminds us that significant strength and wisdom frequently come from navigating and overcoming difficult circumstances.

“In the mud lies the promise of blooming. And for me, that promise has never been clearer.”

Over the past month, my own life has mirrored this metaphor in profound ways. I’ve encountered a series of powerful experiences and pivotal moments that have challenged my previous perspectives, illuminating essential truths. These experiences, though often uncomfortable, have been instrumental in shaping a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me. Each lesson has guided me to question and eventually release certain outdated beliefs and patterns, making room for growth, authenticity, and genuine happiness.

Audio Overview​

January 2025 was one of the challenging periods of my life. I found myself at a crossroads, faced with a difficult decision: should I fight to hold on to people who were ready to walk away, or should I let them go? At first, the thought of letting go felt like surrender, like giving up on something that once mattered. But as I reflected, I came to a life-changing realization when people choose to leave, it is not my responsibility to convince them to stay. True connections should never require force or persuasion, and holding onto someone who has already decided to leave only prolongs the inevitable. So, rather than clinging to what was slipping away, I chose to step back and let them go.

This perspective may seem counterintuitive at first, especially in a world that often emphasizes fighting for relationships, proving loyalty, and never giving up on people. However, I’ve learned that there's profound peace in allowing things to unfold naturally. Don’t fight to keep people who no longer want to be in your life.

This mindset doesn’t just apply to romantic relationships but it extends to friendships, family ties, and even professional relationships. Time and experience have taught me that when someone decides to distance themselves, it’s often a reflection of where they are on their own journey, not a measure of your worth. Clinging to relationships out of fear, insecurity, or obligation only leads to unnecessary pain. Instead, accepting that not everyone is meant to stay forever frees us to focus on the relationships that are genuine, mutual, and fulfilling.

Audio Overview​

We live in an era where effort is becoming optional.

Craving a meal? Open Gojek or Grab, and it will arrive at your doorstep in 20 minutes. Need new clothes? A few taps on Shopee, and they’ll be delivered the same day. Feeling too tired to talk to someone? Just send a text or voice note. Life’s daily inconveniences are disappearing, erased by technology and smart solutions designed to make everything seamless and effortless.

At first glance, this sounds amazing. Technology is here to enhance our lives, saving us time and freeing us from tedious work. But the more I look around, the more I wonder. What are we doing with this newfound freedom? Are we using it to grow, improve, and challenge ourselves? Or are we becoming complacent and drifting toward an existence where struggle is minimized, and comfort is prioritized above all else?

Boomers complain that Millennials and Gen Z are lazy, entitled, unwilling to put in the hard work their generation endured. Meanwhile, motivational entrepreneurs preach hustle culture, while self-care advocates insist we need to slow down. And now, AI is stepping into the picture—promising to make life even easier, anticipating our needs before we even recognize them ourselves.

With AI tools like NotebookLM assisting with research, coding aids like Cursor speeding up software development, and generative models drafting emails and writing content, the line between productivity and mindlessness is blurring. We are moving toward a society where friction is eliminated altogether.

But here’s the burning question that keeps me up at night: Is a life without struggle truly fulfilling?

I recently came across an insightful article by Julie Zhuo titled Our Souls Need Proof of Work, and it resonated with me deeply. The idea she explores is simple but profound: we are wired for effort. Without it, we lose purpose, resilience, and genuine happiness.

Without effort, without discomfort, we risk living an empty existence.