Reflect on a time when you challenged a belief or idea. What prompted you to act? Would you make the same decision again?
My dad goes on a diet, participates in several sports teams because he gains weight so easily; but mom keeps her slim figure without trying. She only considered exercising when our family had an annual health check one Sunday and her statistics weren't great. That was in April 2015.
Writing became my therapy in 2007. After my best friend left me in an accident, I turned notebooks into journals because of a desperate need to express myself against trusting issues. Never could anyone expect words to do wonders for me until they did: my mind was stable and my communication was ameliorating. Ever since, writing has been a daily habit of mine, later sticking with my love for travel and arts.
Soon after the writer dream ignited, my lack of creativity emerged. All good writers I knew seemed to own endless sources of imagination inside themselves while the only thing I could write about was me. Throughout high school, I tried to discover my capabilities elsewhere, ending up at VYCO (Vietnamese Youth Cooperation Organization) after graduation as external affairs appeared to be my niche. The writer dream was doubted because pursuing something based on mere interest couldn't define a career path.
In February 2015, I quit VYCO. Working in 3 departments at once filled my days with exhaustion: knowledge in international relations wasn't appealing enough and the routine was getting rigid. Not only was passion nowhere to be found, my time for personal interests - arts, travel and especially writing - was also eaten up. Self-reflection made me realize I didn't want to spend my life focusing on what I was doing there. After leaving, I registered for a creative writing course, went to galleries and discovered new music like before. Everyone opposed my giving up such opportunities to bloom but I didn't flinch. Though it's unclear who I wanted to become at that moment, I felt content being myself.
On a Tuesday afternoon, April 2015, members of my writing class turned in their homework as usual. One of our best writers didn't because she had no mood that week, which made me wonder why I always completed assignments. The answer was no secret: I find inspirations consciously instead of waiting for their arrival. That thought stayed in the back of my mind until the day my parents were discussing mom's health records from last Sunday. Unlike her, dad's statistics were perfectly fine because thanks to dieting and sports, he earns something more important than just a fit figure: his health. "Hard work pays off after all!" was his claim. Strange enough, I found myself connecting the two situations because he and I had one thing in common: the force to earn what some people are given at hand. What else have I obtained from that process? Inborn writers don't spend much time looking for inspirations outside themselves but they easily become dependent on writing mood. On the other hand, I have acquired how to deal with mental block and those techniques get better with practice; so my hard work pays off too.
Feeling more confident in the writing path, I intend to keep myself creatively motivated. Running "Pin it on Hanoi" with my best friend was a start; almost 4000 readers had been following our personal writings until I locked the page to start working on longer projects, as well as contributing to And Of Other Things magazine. To be honest, if I hadn't stopped pursuing writing back then, I wouldn't have known how much it means to me; so for that I'm really thankful.
Passion, I believe, motivates humans to step out of comfort zones and turn potentials into abilities. Moreover, a diligent attitude will always get us somewhere. Any decisions I made have led me to this day, so I don't regret any of them. Having challenged my potential as a writer, I was right to follow my heart.
My dad goes on a diet, participates in several sports teams because he gains weight so easily; but mom keeps her slim figure without trying. She only considered exercising when our family had an annual health check one Sunday and her statistics weren't great. That was in April 2015.
Writing became my therapy in 2007. After my best friend left me in an accident, I turned notebooks into journals because of a desperate need to express myself against trusting issues. Never could anyone expect words to do wonders for me until they did: my mind was stable and my communication was ameliorating. Ever since, writing has been a daily habit of mine, later sticking with my love for travel and arts.
Soon after the writer dream ignited, my lack of creativity emerged. All good writers I knew seemed to own endless sources of imagination inside themselves while the only thing I could write about was me. Throughout high school, I tried to discover my capabilities elsewhere, ending up at VYCO (Vietnamese Youth Cooperation Organization) after graduation as external affairs appeared to be my niche. The writer dream was doubted because pursuing something based on mere interest couldn't define a career path.
In February 2015, I quit VYCO. Working in 3 departments at once filled my days with exhaustion: knowledge in international relations wasn't appealing enough and the routine was getting rigid. Not only was passion nowhere to be found, my time for personal interests - arts, travel and especially writing - was also eaten up. Self-reflection made me realize I didn't want to spend my life focusing on what I was doing there. After leaving, I registered for a creative writing course, went to galleries and discovered new music like before. Everyone opposed my giving up such opportunities to bloom but I didn't flinch. Though it's unclear who I wanted to become at that moment, I felt content being myself.
On a Tuesday afternoon, April 2015, members of my writing class turned in their homework as usual. One of our best writers didn't because she had no mood that week, which made me wonder why I always completed assignments. The answer was no secret: I find inspirations consciously instead of waiting for their arrival. That thought stayed in the back of my mind until the day my parents were discussing mom's health records from last Sunday. Unlike her, dad's statistics were perfectly fine because thanks to dieting and sports, he earns something more important than just a fit figure: his health. "Hard work pays off after all!" was his claim. Strange enough, I found myself connecting the two situations because he and I had one thing in common: the force to earn what some people are given at hand. What else have I obtained from that process? Inborn writers don't spend much time looking for inspirations outside themselves but they easily become dependent on writing mood. On the other hand, I have acquired how to deal with mental block and those techniques get better with practice; so my hard work pays off too.
Feeling more confident in the writing path, I intend to keep myself creatively motivated. Running "Pin it on Hanoi" with my best friend was a start; almost 4000 readers had been following our personal writings until I locked the page to start working on longer projects, as well as contributing to And Of Other Things magazine. To be honest, if I hadn't stopped pursuing writing back then, I wouldn't have known how much it means to me; so for that I'm really thankful.
Passion, I believe, motivates humans to step out of comfort zones and turn potentials into abilities. Moreover, a diligent attitude will always get us somewhere. Any decisions I made have led me to this day, so I don't regret any of them. Having challenged my potential as a writer, I was right to follow my heart.
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