The feeling of love for someone is not something that you just go right ahead and deny. I don’t think it’s something that you should be shy about:

That you like a person. Somehow after the years have come to pass it becomes true that somehow or another your ego doesn’t really take that much occupancy. You can admit honestly that you like a person even if you realize that there is no expectation of a return.

On my part, I don’t know; even as a teacher, I really like a couple of different people here and there, but I realize clearly that there might not be really an expectation of a return, and that’s okay, that’s just how I am – it might be strange to think about, but even your teacher might have emotions, and so too might the rest of the world.

It is a little unconventional to reveal your emotions, especially in a world like this, but to the person I do like, I like you, but I realize that I should not put you down, I should not bind you, I should not stop you from being who you want to be. If we come together, it is because somehow or another, through the millions of possible pathways, and somehow through the conversations, we liked each other, and that is enough for me and is an act of fortune, not of planning or otherwise.

In the past, I would’ve been afraid of saying that I like a person or I wouldn’t have been so honest with my emotions. Nowadays, I don’t know if it’s because I’m old now, but I think it’s okay to say that I like people and I’m not too afraid of saying that I do because that’s just what it really is – an expression of emotion and a reality that I wouldn’t deny. 

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Why do I even like her amidst the hundreds of people who have expressed their affection, their emotion, their wishes that we spend more time together?

I don’t know, I just really like the look on her face, the way that she talks to me, the way that she interacts with me. I don’t really care about her age, honestly. If anything, her age makes her look a little bit more romantically. I don’t know, it’s just that even when I think about what I’m interested in; I think the maturity just adds to the mystique and the interest that comes along with it. The feeling that maybe the person that you’re looking at has a kind of maturity that you’re not exposed to, things that you don’t know about, secrets that lie beyond your imagination – It’s kind of fascinating to me, even as I acknowledge the only reason I have not found someone else: nobody else has captivated my soul more.

I realize in many ways that I am meant to be a teacher. But somehow, this role seems sometimes overly limiting.

A teacher too is human. A teacher too has emotions. A teacher too can love people. A teacher too can hate people. A teacher too can be captivated by a feeling of infatuation. Let it pass. Ignore it, but follow along with it.

As I am, I know fully well that people rely upon me, yet I realise that I have my own feelings. Is it too wanton or too selfish for me if I simply just throw out how I genuinely feel?

This can be a teaching moment that even if someone is your teacher, they too can have emotions and feelings. They too can be unsure about life and can love another person for reasons that seem stupid to you but rational if you were to take the perspective of the person that you love and respect. 

There is this weird idea really that the physical body transcends the boundaries of the known, and I’m not super attached to the idea that physically speaking we are tied to a particular age or physical state of existence, which is one of the reasons why I privilege this idea that maybe even someone older is okay – That even if she has ideals that seem deluded or misinformed from my personal perspective, I can be open to what she says and what she thinks. 

It is a little weird to share your thoughts on social media and even on a blog because that raises questions about who you are, what you privilege, and what you like. But anyway, that is just a personal reflection that eventually people will come to understand. 

But I am okay with that because at the end of the day, I prefer that people interact with me as who I am, not somebody who is different, not somebody who is divorced from his true self, not somebody who is trying to play a role.

As I think about who I like, there is naturally a sense of distance – the feeling that somehow a person is probably laughing at you just because of how far apart you are. How many stages of life that person must have gone through relative to you?

For me, I think it’s kinda cool that there is that kind of difference and distance because it shows that there’s something to learn.

Maybe it is just a weird quirk of my personality that I like someone who is so far ahead of me. It is a little weird and it is not something I would have known or even experienced before. But I don’t know, the reverie of the days has made it possible that this would come to pass. It could just be a crush, but who knows? We never do know, and life is complicated.

I don’t really like those who have not gone through certain experiences. And I’m sorry if that’s something that you like and that’s something that you want more in your life. Because I cannot deliver that. The part of me that believes in the future wants someone more than that – someone who has been through a broken world, who has had their entire life and their ideals broken before, but somehow chooses the ability to go on and push on. That is just how I am in this weird, strange moment of reverie.

Though I am your teacher, as I am to many others, I do not know fully what I want. Yet, this is my expression of vulnerability to you, my student. I know that I am teaching you and I know that I am asking you questions that will change your life, transform your existence, and make you regard your older self as a shadow of what you once were.

But I too am human, and that is the truth.

In this world, as we pass through, we may realize that there are some activities that we deeply and truly love – little skills, hobbies, and occupations that pique our minds, hearts, and souls when we participate in them as an act of pleasure. 

As we pass through the tides of time, though, almost inevitably we come to realize that simply because someone we enjoy something, that doesn’t mean that we are going to be good at it. In fact, that’s an understatement. 

Why are we talking about good when actually we can be horribly, devastatingly, and world-changingly catastrophic at it? 

Here the realization inevitably comes, almost as if it were the common heritage of humanity:

Just because you like something, that does not mean that you will be good at it. 

One might argue that a true passion is such that even if one isn’t good at something, that the passion should stay. 

Even if you are a horrible dancer, that does not mean that you should despise dancing. 

The words of an eternal Malay proverb come to mind, “Tidak tahu menari, memarahkan lantai.”

They resonate through the core of our beings and remind us: 

If you dance horribly, that does not mean that you should blame the floor. 

In other words, our lack of skill is no justification for our preferences, which are shown superficial if being bad at them is our grounds for casting them away. 

After all, are we not like the fox, that declared the grapes sour, purely because we could not reach them? 

In a way, this may be true, but a reality is that in this world, skills are not necessarily their own reward, and imagining that they are is to neglect the realities of our universe in lieu of something all too idealistic, rarefied, and divorced from both the world and the way it supports, facilitates, and grows skills. 

From a purely psychological perspective though, the idea that being good at something can enhance enjoyment is well-supported by research across multiple fields. 

When people feel competent or skilled in a task:

• They experience greater intrinsic motivation (Self-Determination Theory).

• They are more likely to achieve a state of flow (Flow Theory).

• They feel rewarded by using their strengths (Positive Psychology).

• They expect to succeed, which increases motivation and enjoyment (Expectancy-Value Theory).

• They activate the brain’s reward pathways, creating positive reinforcement (Neuroscience).

• They have higher self-efficacy, leading to greater confidence and satisfaction (Self-Efficacy).

However, it’s not just the case that competence makes an activity easier or more manageable and contributes to the sense of pleasure and fulfillment we get from it – we live in a society that rewards it, and so provides the conditions for its continuation: 

The truly skilled of any domain find opportunities as a result of their success. People who are skilled in languages can become language teachers in the same way that people skilled in the cello or the piano can become master performers or instructors. Across almost any domain, this is true…

But what is also true is that attaining such levels of skill is inevitably a hard-won battle and is not guaranteed either. 

To muse a little, talent is a relative measure, and the world is a competitive place – To become distinguished is not so easy as being able to play at a certain fluency on the piano, or create pieces that resonate with the universe at scale. It is a matter of shining, differentiating oneself, and showcasing that one is both immeasurably better and immeasurably more relatable than those around them, or, if neither of those, than immeasurably more competent in the relevant area, in a way that others would universally accept.

There are many reasons why a person can lack the talent that they need to move on to the next level. 

Discipline, a lack of the talent to generate in an hour what someone else can bring forth in 6 minutes… better training, resources, facilities, for others that one does not have. But on a personal note, I am agnostic about these things. Because if one lacks talent in a certain way, how could one confidently distinguish between the reasons? Do you really lack talent, and hence you’re unable to do something? Or is it because you don’t have the discipline to do it? If you think down to it, it’s not so clear-cut or easy to distinguish – and what’s worse, it becomes the foundation of excuse-making, malingering, and eventually a blame game that converges in a blaming of everything except oneself on account of an abandoned quest towards one’s end goal.

As such, I think it’s not a question that’s worth addressing. 

What I do consider worth addressing, though, is the fact that there is a natural order to things – A timeline over which people pursue things, and over which the binary determinant of whether a talent will flourish or die is made; a timeline I’ve known all too well over time. 

There are many things out there that I like, but I’m not good at – Things that I’ve tried to learn, but have failed in the process because I didn’t allocate the time necessary, or because I didn’t have the talent.

I’d like to think that I’ve learned some things from my failures, but probably the most immediate one is this. Whatever it is that you do, do with all your heart and your soul. Distribute it over the course of time. But remember that discipline is good for you. In the moments when you don’t feel like doing things, discipline will keep you. Passion on the other hand is separate, and it’s true that without it, the journey would be hard to sustain, and ability difficult to procure. But therein lies the benefit of looking back at the things that we try to strive for, to reflect upon them, and to push forward, realising why it is that we wanted to do certain things. I have plenty of reflections on my own life that I’d love to share, but I suppose those will come at a later time.